Vetito
by SlytherinHeiress23
Summary: S9: Bad Boys AU. Dean owns a boys' home, and Castiel, after some unfortunate events, is sent to live with him. Right away both of them feel the undeniable chemistry between them. What should only be a strictly professional relationship, turns into something much more forbidden. (Formally known as: Safe With You)
1. Chapter 1

Thank you to my friend AndromedaeStarStorm69 for the new title idea!

Dean and Castiel are in a forbidden relationship. And no matter how many times Dean pushes Cas, the boy fights back just as hard. As Dean struggles with how morally wrong their affair is, Castiel struggles to figure out the man who too him in.

This story can be looked at as underage, which is why I put the warning up. However, where I live, it can be looked at as (technically) legal, so take it as you want. Dean is 26 and Castiel is 17. I will also posting warnings before each chapter, so you'll know what to expect.

Thank you to my two betas: waatp and BecauseI'mBatman for looking over helping with the editing!

I also looked over the chapters myself, as did _dragqueencas_, but if there are any mistakes we missed, I apologize.

And a very special thank you to the lovely _dragqueencas_ over on LiveJournal for co-writing this story with me! Thank you so much for taking this journey with me and being so patient while I put together and edited this story.

Warnings: masturbation

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Dean stood on the front porch, waiting for the new arrival to come. The Sheriff had contacted him last night to let him know a new boy would be coming. All he knew about the boy was that he was 17 and had been caught stealing food from a local gas station. It was the same old song. A boy abandoned by his family, wandering around until someone found him. It was the same for all the other boys.

Castiel sat petulantly in the back seat of the squad car. He wasn't happy about having to live at a boy's home, relying on other people to provide him with needs. He was perfectly capable of doing it himself. And if he hadn't gotten himself caught in his one moment of desperation, he'd be sitting at the public library, enjoying his gas station pre-made meal and reading a big fat book. Instead, he was on his way to _Winchesters' Home for Boys_. Ugh. Though the name made the teen cringe, he supposed he was glad for the ultimatum the court gave him. He'd rather this than Juvie.

The cop's car was soon pulling up in front of Dean's house and a gruff looking officer climbed out of his seat and walked over to the back door.

"Out!" the man snapped to the boy in the back.

A teen boy, with unruly dark hair climbed out of the back and looked up at the house. Dean noticed the boy looked completely normally, aside from the handcuffs, but didn't look roughed up, like most boys when they first came here. Most boys would have been involved in fights, thus, sending them here. This boy almost looked out of place.

The boy's eyes wandered, taking in everything, scrutinizing what would be his new home. Then, his eyes landed on Dean and it felt like a punch to the stomach. They were the most intense and deep shade of blue that Dean had ever seen. The way the boy was looking at Dean, staring straight into his eyes, was like he was looking into his soul.

Castiel looked up at the big old house, noting where windows were so he could make escape plans. His eyes ran over the figure standing on the porch, and something drew his eyes back to it. He gasped quietly at the ray of fucking sunshine staring down at him. This guy had to be one of the Winchester brothers, the guys who ran the place. Castiel took in the stance of the young man; posture straight and proud, legs bowed slightly, and arms resting on the railing. His eyes were moss green and Castiel swore he'd dream about rainforests tonight. The cop who brought him here was talking, but neither Castiel nor the Winchester seemed to be listening.

Dean swallowed hard and licked his lips when Castiel continued to stare at him. God, the boy was gorgeous… and so wrong! Dean's mind was screaming at him, reminding him he was the boy's new guardian, he couldn't think about what those eyes looked like with nothing but passion and lust in them; damn it!

"Dean Winchester?" a harsh voice broke his inner struggle. Dean blinked and realised the cop was still there, watching him. Smooth, Dean could almost hear his brother's berating voice, but luckily, his brother wasn't here at the moment.

"Officer Collins," Dean greeted him curtly.

The officer nodded and walked up the porch steps, practically dragging the boy with him. "This is Castiel Novak. I assume you got the papers we sent over to you." Dean nodded, he had. There were about three pages of basic information about Castiel, but the odd thing was there wasn't any information about his past or any previous felonies—this guy almost didn't belong here.

It took Castiel a few moments to register that the officer was pulling him up the stairs, so his feet shuffled through the dusty grass and he nearly tripped over them. He just couldn't tear his eyes away from the man's face; Dean, as the cop had said. Even after he had turned to talk to the officer. Castiel stared and stared, counting the freckles on Dean's cheeks, his heart beating frantically at the close proximity. He wondered if the man was into younger guys.

"Why don't we go inside," Dean suggested, still feeling the intense gaze of the boys' eyes on his face. "Get everything finalized." The officer nodded and started pulling Castiel again. Dean felt bad for the guy, he wasn't _not_ cooperating, but the officer was treating him as such.

Dean led them through the door and over to a large opening to the left, showing the living room. He gestured to the brown couch, pushed up against the large bay window looking out onto the porch and yard, for Castiel and the officer to sit. Dean sat in a recliner that matched the couch and was opposite of Castiel, giving Dean a great opportunity to watch him without being suspicious.

As the three sat in the living room discussing final hand-overs and official papers and whatnot, Castiel took the time to really scrutinize Dean. Every so often, the man would glance his way. Sometimes he smiled small, sometimes he flicked his eyes straight back to the officer. Always, his green eyes glinted with something Castiel couldn't quite place.

After all the paper work was signed and the officer had driven away, Castiel stood awkwardly in the doorway of the living room. He wasn't sure what was going to happen, but he knew he wanted to get out.

"Okay, Castiel," Dean declared, moving back into the living room, after walking the officer out. "I guess I'll introduce myself. I'm Dean Winchester. Just call me Dean, no need for Sir, Mr. Winchester or anything like that; I'm not that old." Dean chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "I own this house with my brother Sam. He's in school at the moment, so he's not around as often. You'll also meet Kevin; he helps out here. He's a cool guy." Dean smiled at Castiel, hoping he was easing the boy's nerves a bit. "I went to a home like this when I was younger." Dean didn't know why he was revealing this information; he never divulged his story to any of the boys. "I didn't like it, but the owner, Sonny, he-he helped me."

Castiel tilted his head slightly, wondering what made Dean open up to him so quickly. Maybe he should stay a while to figure this man out.

"Okay, D-Dean." He stumbled on the word, not used to being permitted to using an adult's first name. He'd spent most of the past few years around cops and lawyers and social workers.

Despite his plans to escape ASAP, Castiel could feel himself warming up to the green-eyed man, and boy did that have to stop.

"See, not so hard." Dean returned Castiel's smile, happy that the boy seemed to be warming up to him. He couldn't help but feel like he wanted to know Castiel. He knew why Castiel was here, but he didn't know what lead to the theft—to him breaking when he had such a clean record compared to most of the boys here. But he wouldn't push the boy, he'd let him open up in his own time.

"Okay, Castiel," Dean said, standing in the middle of the living room entrance way, "How about a tour? Let you get to know this place?"

"Okay," the boy replied and followed Dean as he led Castiel through the house, showing him the kitchen, the dining room and the bathrooms. He was told of the chores he would have to do to earn his keep, which he didn't mind. Finally, they reached one of the bedrooms, which he would be sharing with two other boys close to his age. He was told he would meet them soon enough.

"This is your room," Dean announced when they stepped in front of a closed door on the second level. "You'll be sharing with Benjamin and Luke. You'll meet everyone later, but I'm going to let you get settled first."

Dean walked into the room, which was fairly large and had two beds pushed to the left side wall and two pushed to the right—Cas' clearly not occupied. There were two small dressers against the far side of the room below the window. "You can choose one of these two beds," Dean said, pointing to the two beds on the left.

Castiel nodded his thanks and walked tentatively over to the beds, where he placed his small knapsack containing what few possessions he had beneath the bed closest to the door.

Dean watched Castiel walk over to a bed, placing his things on the mattress and then started peeling at the old tape with names of its past owners. Dean suddenly got a flashback of him, only 16, walking carefully to a bed, while Sonny, the man who owned the house watched him. Castiel's movements were eerily similar to his own.

Castiel peered at the name written on electrical tape attached to the end of the bed. It was worn and scratched, so he could not read the words.

"Do I get to put my name on this bed, Dean?" he asked softly, his head turned over his shoulder toward where Dean was still standing at the door.

He didn't realize Castiel had spoken until he saw the piercing blue eyes stare at him again. "Wha-oh," Dean cleared his throat, "Yeah. One moment," Dean replied a little flustered and quickly walked to his room to get the tape and a marker. "Here." He handed the objects to Castiel upon his return.

Castiel took them from Dean with another nod of thanks and peeled the tape from its place on the roll. He stuck the adhesive side to the bed reverently, gently pressing down the corners. He started to write his name, and then realized he was writing too big and didn't have room for his whole name. He sighed and begrudgingly stopped writing; capping the lid and handing the tape and pen back to Dean. He glanced over at the tape, eyeing the messy scrawl of "Cas" written in stark black ink. At least people won't get confused now, he mused, remembering all the botched attempts at pronouncing his name every DA and cop in the tri-state area made.

"So, Castiel," Dean said, taking the tape and marker from the boy. "Do you want something to drink or eat? The boys just had lunch, but I can make up something." Dean watched the boy, waiting for his answer.

"Uh, sure, that would be wonderful. Thank you, Dean."

"Great!" Dean exclaimed and led the way downstairs. Castiel followed the man back downstairs to the kitchen, where Dean started preparing a meal for the boy. Now that he thought about it, Castiel was fairly hungry. He hadn't eaten since his trial the day before.

"You'll soon come to realize that you'll prefer my cooking over Sammy's. I actually make edible food, and not the rabbit shit he prefers," Dean explained, looking over his shoulder, at Castiel, every other word.

"So, what do you want? Sandwich? Burger? Salad?" Dean made a statement with his face at the mention of salad. Dean gestured to the kitchen table, silently telling Castiel to take a seat and he would do the work.

"Actually, I haven't had a burger in years," Castiel said quietly, staring at the wood ingrain of the table. He had come to terms with his sporadic homelessness, but he still felt some embarrassment while talking to people about it.

"You're kidding?" Dean asked rhetorically, looking to the boy in shook. He wasn't trying to be condescending, but it just surprised him. "Well," Dean said, pulling a patty from the fridge, "We're going to change that. Dean grabbed a bun and toppings left over from lunch and placed them on the counter.

Dean pulled out an electric grill and turned it on. It was too much work to turn the BBQ on for one burger. "So, Castiel," Dean started after a few moments of silence. He turned away from the grill and looked over at the boy. He could see the other boys, working out in the yard, through the large window behind the table. "Do you like sports?" Dean knew it was a stupid question, but he wanted to get to know the new boy.

"Uh, no, I don't," Castiel replied. He was going to leave it at that, but something compelled him to share with this man. It may have been a generic question, but Dean genuinely seemed to care. "I read a lot. And if I have the materials, I like to paint." He said this hurriedly, trying to evade as much tension as possible. "You uh, you can just call me Cas, if you like," he muttered as a second thought. "If it's easier, I mean." He went back to staring at the table.

"Cas," Dean said, trying out the name. "I like it," he said, smiling over at the boy. "So, you read. What do you like to read?" Dean pulled a small container of fries from the fridge and placed them in the little toaster oven next to the grill.

Castiel's head darted up at the sound of Dean testing his name. He grinned and blushed when Dean smiled at him and dropped his head again. "Uhh, I like a lot of old literature. Like Victor Hugo and Charlotte Bronte and Edgar Allen Poe." Dean nodded approvingly as Castiel listed off names. Those were some unusual names for a 17-year-old boy. Cas let the silence sit for a while before he ventured a question for Dean. "D-do you like s-sports?"

Dean was just flipping the fries when Castiel spoke up. "I do," Dean admitted. "I don't play, though I did when I was younger, but I prefer to watch now," Dean smiled, remembering the few memories of him and Sam playing football in an open field, during one of their dad's disappearances. "Sometimes the boys put together a game and we watch some games on TV."

Castiel smiled politely, picking at a loose string in his too-large t-shirt. This was one of the only items of clothing he had. Along with a few stolen library books, the boy didn't own much.

Dean slid the burger off the grill and onto the bun. "Do you want anything on your burger?" Dean held up the burger, showing it to Castiel and placed it on the counter, waiting for the fries to finish.

The boy's head shot up again. He seemed surprised to be acknowledged. Cas guessed that's what happened when you spent most of your life invisible.

"Uh some cheese would be great, if you could."

Dean nodded and placed a slice of cheese on the meat and placed the finished fries on the plate. "Here you go." Dean placed the plate in front of Castiel. "What would you like to drink?"

"Water is fine, thank you," Castiel uttered before unceremoniously shoving the burger into his mouth. He managed about a third of its mass before he had to bite down. Even after this, he still fit seven fries in next to the meat and bread. Cas hummed appreciatively, bordering on sexually, at the taste of his first burger in three years. He tried to tell Dean as such, but all he managed was a gurgling harrumphing sound around the mass of food.

Dean went over to the cupboard, pulled out a glass and filled it with water. When he handed the drink to Castiel, the boy was already halfway through his burger. Dean would have enjoyed the fact that Castiel was enjoying his meal, had it not been for the sounds, the moans. They sent a shiver down Dean's spine, and a familiar pull in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help but let thoughts in of what Castiel might sound like making those noises for something other than a burger.

Castiel shoved the rest of his burger into his mouth, chewed messily and swallowed greedily before gulping down his entire glass of water.

"These make me very happy, Dean," Castiel said reverently, gazing up into the older man's eyes. There, he saw the glint again. He still could not place what it was.

Dean had to fight the urge to lean forward and lick a stray drop of water running down the boy's chin. "I'm glad, Cas," he said, needing something to distract him. "Tell me a bit more about yourself." It may have been to distract Dean, but he really did want to learn more about Castiel. Most boys, when they come here, have a fairly decent sized file. Dean wouldn't really need to ask a lot of questions; but Castiel, Castiel was a mystery.

"There's not much to tell," Cas said, licking his lips, raking in the leftover taste of meat coating his skin. "I never knew my dad. My mom got into Heroin and was killed by her dealer. I've been on the streets ever since. When I was younger, people would pity me and give me money and food. But as I got older, more man than boy, people just ignored my existence." Cas paused for a moment, fiddling with his shirt. He wondered why he decided to reveal so much about himself so quickly, and the he found he couldn't stop. Dean just emanated 'safe' from his very being. "I slept in public libraries, homeless shelters, and empty houses for sale. Anywhere I would go unnoticed. I hadn't eaten in a week when I stole that food from the gas station. I was messy when I did it, wasn't able to run because I had no energy. I passed out and woke up in a jail cell. The trial happened, and here we are."

Dean remained silent as Castiel told his sad tale. He had heard it before, every boy's tale was different, but always linking them all in the end. "That's a lot for a boy to go through," Dean said softly, looking at Cas' face, which held no emotions. He guessed Cas was used to reliving the tale over and had built up an armour against it. "No one deserves to go through that; I'm sorry." Dean tried to not look or sound like he was pitying the boy; he knew what it was like to receive pity and he didn't want Castiel to feel the same way. "But you don't have to worry about that now; you have a home now." Dean tried to smile and sound encouraging, but he was reserved a bit; he didn't want to offend Castiel.

Castiel sighed, the weight of his story finally lifted after so many years. All it took was one person to care enough to listen. He had nodded in thanks at Dean's words, his lip trembling slightly. He was overwhelmed by relief, acceptance and indiscriminate care. His eyes welled up and he hung his head once more, a silent tear sliding down his cheek. He'd barely been there an hour and he was already crying in front of a beautiful man who Castiel was meant to see as his guardian.

Dean was used to seeing the boys that came to him cry. It had been uncomfortable at first, but now, after a few years of doing this, Dean was fairly confident in his comforting skills. "Well," Dean said, breaking the silence with a cheery tone, trying to lighten the mood. "It's your first day here; I'm not going to make you do any work." Dean smiled at Castiel, whose eyes were now sparkling because of the tears, looking beautiful. "What do you want to do?"

Cas swiped at his tears, a hot flush gracing his cheeks with embarrassment. He sniffled once, twice, and then looked directly at Dean. He was confident for a maximum of three seconds before he folded. "I-I don't kn-know," he stammered, giving a nonchalant shrug. He had wanted to seduce Dean, but he supposed that could take some time, and considering his display not moments ago, he wasn't sure if Dean would find him attractive with tears on his face.

"We'll, it's up to you," Dean offered, now wanting to put any reserve in his offer, however, he would not tolerate drinking. "What about we get you some clothes?" Dean offered. It could have been seen as an obscene offer, but more boys than not came to him with very little possessions. It was almost standard that he gets each new boy some new clothes.

"I- uh-Y-yes, yes that would be nice. Thank you, Dean." Castiel had been expecting a lot of words, but somehow, the ones that escaped Dean's lips, were not what he anticipated. He was excited all the same, no matter how mundane of an event it seemed.

"Great. Sam will be here in about an hour," Dean said, looking at his watch. "Once he gets here, we'll go." Dean smiled at Castiel, feeling slightly excited about going shopping with the boy. This wasn't a gesture he was new to, but he had never had this feeling before about taking the new kid out; to get the chance to see Castiel in some—perhaps better fitting clothes. God, he felt like such a pervert, but those thoughts didn't stop a rush of thoughts of Castiel in his clothing.

"S-so, what do we d-do for a whole uh...hour?" Castiel struggled to get the words out, internally cursing himself. He wanted that to sound alluring. He knew he'd get nowhere if he kept being such a geek. Dean would probably show more interest in someone who shared his like of sports, not some homeless, weedy, dorky guy he had to provide for.

"We can go for however long you want, Cas." Dean smiled and took Castiel's dishes to the sink. "I'll just have Sammy watch over the boys," Dean said, rinsing the plate underneath the running water.

"Oh," he exclaimed softly. And it must have been a testament to how much he craved attention, because he already felt special and wanted with Dean.

Truthfully, Dean usually wasn't this open with the other boys. He normally gave them a couple of hours to pick a few things and the go, but with Cas, Dean felt a need to be around him.

"Do you want to go meet the others or you can do that later?" he asked

"I'm sure we will acquaint ourselves later," Castiel hurriedly replied. "I'd like to spend more time with you, if that's okay." The boy's head was down, but his eyes were staring up at Dean through his lashes. He batted his lids gently and tilted his head to the side, hoping to get a reaction.

Dean swallowed thickly and looked at Cas. God, the kid didn't know how fucking beautiful he looked like that—so innocent and seductive. He felt dirty when he felt his pants grow slightly tighter, but God, it was welcomed.

"Sure, Cas," Dean said after a few seconds, but what felt like minutes, of silence, "Whatever you want."

Dean's pause was noticeable, but not as much as the glance he raked over Castiel.

"Great," was all he said, before he shuffled past Dean and out of the room. Dean let his breathing shallow, before following Castiel into the living room.

Castiel crossed the hall into the living room, where he noticed an old piano before. He sat silently before the keys and glanced up at where Dean was standing in the doorway. "May I play?" he asked, letting a corner of his mouth come up slightly.

"You play?" he asked interested, looking from the piano to the boy. "Yeah," Cas replied. "I mean, I haven't since I was a kid, but I think I can remember. Dean nodded and just shrugged, "It hasn't been played in a while; probably out of tune, but go ahead." Dean gestured for Castiel to go for it. The piano, aside from moving from its original post, hadn't been touched since his mother died.

The teen placed his hands reverently on the keys, trying to choose a song to play for Dean. He played a few warm up scales, reveling in the sound that filled the room, before deciding on a Missy Higgins song. He played the first few bars before humming along, grinning to himself.

_I've still got it_, he thought.

Dean stood in the entrance way, listening to Castiel play. It was nice, getting to hear the soft tune of the piano again; and Castiel was pretty good. "How long did you play for?" Dean found himself asking, curious to find out more about the boy.

Castiel looked over at Dean, but continued playing, the music a nice backing track to the conversation. "Since I can remember," he said. "My mother taught me when she was still sober. I think I was four."

Dean smiled at the thought of a little Castiel, sitting at the piano trying to learn, but the thought was soon tainted by what he revealed about his mother. It was tragic; Dean knew what it was like growing up with an alcoholic; his father. It had been what sent him to the boys' home in the first place. Dean wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. Should he apologise? But he didn't know what Cas' relationship with his family had been. So he settled with "You play well."

"Oh, I'm nothing compared to what my mother could do," he said quietly. Thinking about his mother made him retreat back into himself, and he stopped playing, staring at the keys as if they would bite him.

"Well I'm impressed you were able to get a tune out of that old thing," Dean said, when he realized the boy stopped playing. He worried, feeling guilty that it had been something he said. He was about to say something else when he heard the familiar crunch of gravel. "Sammy's here."

Castiel glanced up at Dean, who had turned toward the hallway now to greet his brother.

"Hey ya, Sammy," Dean greeted his brother and pulled him in for a hug.

Castiel thought the younger Winchester would have looked more like Dean. Instead, he was shocked to see that Sam towered over Dean, with long hair and long arms and long pretty much everything else. The differences between the brothers were endless, but the love they shared in just a greeting was something to admire.

"Dean," Sam chuckled, but responded to the hug, "It's only been two weeks."

"Shut it, bitch. It's about time you showed your face here, Kevin's been stuck taking on your work and his."

Sam just rolled his eyes and chuckled. He looked over to see Castiel standing off to the side. Sam cleared his throat at tilted his head towards Castiel.

Dean turned and looked at Castiel. "Oh, right," Dean said, catching the hint. "This is Castiel, the new addition I told we were getting. Castiel," Dean turned to look at the boy, "this is my brother, Sammy." Dean clasped Sam's shoulder, smiling proudly at his brother.

Sam looked on as Castiel fidgeted on the piano bench. It was odd seeing someone sitting there—Dean never let any of the boys anywhere near it. Why was Castiel near it?

Castiel felt like he was intruding. He was still sitting at the piano, and he wasn't sure how the younger man felt about a stranger touching his dead mother's things. He stood quickly and raised his hand awkwardly. "Hey, hi, uhh, Mr. Winchester," he stumbled out.

He was about to throw his brother a questing glance, but Castiel then spoke up, pulling the younger man's attention to the newcomer. Sam cracked a large smile at Castiel's formality. "It's just Sam, Castiel. No need for titles." However, Sam did shake the boy's hand to make him feel more welcomed.

Castiel already warmed to Sam. He was a giant ray of sunshine wrapped in puppies wrapped in babies laughing. Castiel felt his bad mood fading away and a warmth spread through him. These men would look after him. He was safe and wanted here.

"So, I was going to take Cas to get a few things," Dean spoke, after the introductions were done. "You don't mind staying here with the boys for a few hours, right? They're just in the back doing yard work."

"Nah, go ahead," Sam said, moving away from the doorway. "I can handle things here."

"Great," Dean smiled and turned to Cas. "Want to get going now?"

Dean's question broke his reverie. "Yeah, sure, thanks. It was nice meeting you, Sam."

"You, too, Castiel," Sam said and watched as his brother and Castiel walked out of the door. He wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he saw his brother's gaze linger on Castiel's face when he asked his question. But it wasn't just a friendly gaze, it was intense eye contact; neither one blinked until Sam responded to Castiel.

Dean led Castiel out to a large shed, which could probably pass as a small barn, where an old, black car was parked.

"Oh my God," Castiel gasped and stopped in his tracks. "This is _not_ your car!" He was enthralled, and felt like a teenage girl. But the car was beautiful; sleek and shiny, well cared for and immaculate. He could see his reflection in the paint.

"This is Baby," Dean introduced, running a hand along the hood, almost caressing it. "It was my dad's, but I got it when he died," Dean explained, as he unlocked the doors so they both could get in. Sam always made fun of him would he called a borderline love affair with his car, but he never paid attention and it sent a proud feeling through him from Castiel's reaction.

"I love her," Castiel blurted out, plastering a hand over his mouth. He wasn't meant to say that, anything but that. Now Dean would think he was a weirdo for liking his car so much. Ugh, he thought to himself. _So stupid_, Cas!

Dean chuckled lightly and smiled at Castiel, something unreadable shining in his eyes. And then the best and worst thing happened - Dean brushed it off. "Don't let Sammy hear you say that—he'd never let you hear the end of it." He gave Castiel a wink and slid in behind the wheel. He put the key into the ignition and the car roared to life. "Ready?" he asked.

Cas breathed out a sigh of relief and entered the passenger side. All he could do was nod once the engine was turned on. The rumble of the engine was fucking seductive and Castiel felt his old jeans tightening shamelessly. Dean was attractive, physically and intellectually, and the car was what brought it all together. He wondered how long Dean had owned this car, whether he lived out of it at some point, if he took his kid brother places when they were younger, and Castiel felt like he was sitting inside the man's life. It should've been enough to make him cry, but here he was, being aroused.

The loud music of AC/DC blared through the speakers.

"Sorry," Dean said, turning the music down, and giving Castiel a sheepish look. "Used to just driving by myself." Though that was true, Dean suddenly loved the idea of Castiel riding next to him for some other occasion, especially when the boy look sexy in his car.

"I don't mind," Castiel rushed to say, finally finding his voice. God, he was gripping the leather seat so tightly, he thought his fingertips would fall off. His dick was practically jumping in his pants. He didn't know how Dean hadn't noticed yet.

Dean noticed Castiel's ridged posture, but he figured he was just nervous. Hell, if he wasn't feeling the same way, he'd be lying. Seeing Castiel sit next to him, gripping the seats so tightly, imagining the boy gripping _him_ so _tightly_. God, what was wrong with him?

Rumbling along the highway with Dean should have been comforting, relaxing. Instead, the ride was fraught with tension as Cas tried and failed to quell his arousal. He tried staring out the window, but his gaze was always brought back to Dean. He was harder than ever now, and he didn't know what the hell he was going to do.

When they finally reached the store Dean felt relieved and yet very uncomfortable. As the car ride went on, Castiel's posture stayed ridged. He never once let go of the seat and soon images of him with Castiel in the back of the Impala, as the boys nails dug into his shoulders, encouraging Dean's hard, deep thrusts, crept into his mind. Dean groaned inwardly and hurried out of the car, into the fresh air. God damn it, he felt so disgusted with his thoughts, but even with him in his inner berating, he didn't stop himself.

Castiel took a few moments to collect himself when the car stopped. He breathed in and out and willed his erection away, to no avail. He sighed deeply and eased his nails from the upholstery before joining Dean on the sidewalk.

They walked into the closest clothing store.

"Okay," Dean clasped his hands together when the stopped in front of the men's clothing. "Just pick out what you need and you can try them on if you need to," Dean instructed, trying his best to not stare at Castiel. "I'll be around here if you need anything," Dean pointed to another section of the clothing.

Dean saw Castiel nod understandingly and before Castiel could ask if there was a price limit on what to buy, Dean had walked off, leaving Cas alone in front of the men's section. Dean need some space, some time to clear his head, but having Castiel around was a constant reminder that he need to be careful in public.

Castiel felt like he'd done something wrong. He brushed the thoughts aside and picked out a few cheap, comfy t-shirts and jeans, going to the changing room to check their fit. He slid his own jeans down his legs once the door was locked and realized he was still achingly hard. He looked around, saw a make-up scarf, and decided it couldn't hurt to release some tension if he was quiet. So he pulled himself out of his boxer briefs and started jacking off slow and long, twisting at the end. He stifled his groans with teeth on his lips and held the make-up scarf in front of his cock so as not to spill. The thrill of getting caught made it all even hotter.

Dean walked around the store for a bit, giving Castiel some space and time for himself. Or so Dean told himself. It was a good distraction for him to not have the piercing blues eyes constantly staring at him, so innocent and trusting. God, those eyes alone were enough to get him inappropriately hard, lusting over the 17-year-old boy.

After 15 minutes, Dean decided to go and check up on the boy. He didn't see a dark mop of hair amongst the racks, so he figured Castiel was probably in the changing rooms, knowing he couldn't leave without him. He slipped into the small room, only one door was closed, which he figured was Castiel's.

Cas had smoothed his pre-come down his shaft, a slick path for his flying hand. By this point, Cas' hand was a blur over his throbbing member. He was edging closer and closer to his release. He could feel the familiar hot-heaviness in the pit of his stomach, balls tightening, heart rate pounding, and then –

"Castiel?" Dean knocked gently, waiting for an answer.

Cas froze, aching cock in hand. Dean was just outside the door. The object of Castiel's fantasy was right outside. In his split second of confidence, Castiel nearly opened the door and dragged him inside to show Dean how hard he was for the older man. This quickly dissipated though, as fear and anxiety set in. He tucked his still hard dick back into his underwear, unlocked the door and peeked out.

"Hey, sorry," he apologized to Dean, trying to keep his voice under control. Castiel answered almost breathlessly, concerning Dean. He was about to ask if he was alright when the boy pulled open the door and walked out room with an armful of clothing "There was a bit to try on. Everything fits." He was lying, of course. Everything actually looked a little too big, but he wasn't going to tell Dean that.

Though, Castiel didn't seem any different, aside from his flushed cheeks. Flushed cheeks? Castiel's cheeks were tinted pink, which caught Dean's attention, his eyes raking over his face. God, that colour looked great on him.

He still sounded out of breath when he spoke again and suddenly a realization had hit Dean. The familiar breathlessness and dishevelled look. Had Castiel been…? Dean's thought trailed off, eyes snapping over to Castiel, walking away with his new clothing. Jesus, he was in trouble.

Castiel shuffled up to the counter, his pile of clothing covering his crotch. He hadn't had time to finish, which meant he was going to be grumpy as hell until he could have a shower.

He turned to Dean, who was a few steps behind, and asked, "I hope all this is okay." He gestured to the pile he had just placed on the counter. "If it's too much, I can put some back."

Castiel's voice drew Dean out of his fantasy and he realised he was standing in front of the counter with Castiel's picks on it and a young blonde ringing them though.

"Nah, it's fine," he reassured the boy, pulling out his wallet. The blonde told them the total and Dean paid for them, grabbing the bags, handing them to Castiel.

The car ride was tense, neither one will to say anything. Dean couldn't ignore the slight shift Castiel would do in his seat each time they hit a bump. Dean had a faint idea on what was bothering the boy, and it didn't help the man with his mental or physical state. Dean's pants were now getting tighter the more Castiel moved, the urge to pull over and drag Castiel into his lap and let the boy grind into him was almost too much.

_Oh God, I'm going to die_, Cas thought to himself, the pressure of his pants around his cock constricting as ever. He didn't know how much longer he could withstand the jolts of the car making him buck up and then back again. He couldn't stop looking at Dean's hands, clenched tight around the steering wheel, knuckles white. He imagined them wrapped around himself, gripping his arms as the older man fucked into the boy. He shook his head, trying and failing to rid his head of his fantasy. Dean was his guardian. His thoughts were the deepest shade of dirty-wrong he could fathom. So why did it feel so right?

Dean was relieved when they reached the road to the house. He was in desperate need of a cold shower and time away from the object of his dirtiest fantasies. He felt disgusted with himself and yet he couldn't bring himself to stop the inner lusting; the thoughts he hadn't had since he was Castiel's age.

Dean struggled to not let a sigh of relief escape his lips, not wanting to offend the boy. He quickly threw the car into park and helped Castiel take his bags into the house.

"You can just put these in your room and then just relax," Dean said, handing Castiel the bags he had taken in. "Dinner will be started shortly, but you still have time to yourself." With that, Dean hurried up the stairs and into his room, not bothering to let Sam know he was back; his brother could wait.

Dean went into his adjoining bathroom and turned the water on. He intended on it being a cold shower, but he knew what it would become. The picture of a blue-eyed, dark hair boy filled Dean's mind, bring his already eager cock to further attention. He was now aching hard and throbbing.

Dean wrapped a hand around the length, slowly move along it, increasing the speed each time, as the pressure built. Low moans and gasps bounced off the tiled walls. Dean squeezed the base, imagining it was Castiel's hand wrapped tightly around his cock, Castiel's fingers running along the slit, smearing the pre-come over the head.

Dean's legs were starting to shake; the pressure in the pit of his stomach growing. "Oh, God!" he cried out, placing his free hand against the wall for support, feeling dangerously close to the edge. He gave a few more strokes, tightening his grip, and let out a cry of the boy's name as he spilled over his hands and stomach.

Cas clutched his bags tightly to himself and raced up to his room, barely registering Dean's words. He threw his bags down, shut his door and moved the closest dresser over the door, as there wasn't a lock, so no one could get in. He crawled into bed, kicked off his jeans and started humping into his hand. He breathed out fast and lust-filled groans, sliding his fist up and down his cock to images of Dean touching him. He didn't last long. The tension in the car and his earlier session in the dressing room saw to it that Cas spilled into his hand in a matter of seconds. He lay sated long enough to feel bad about himself before moving to drag the dresser away from the door again. It was going to be a long summer.

Dinner was an interesting affair. The other boys were with them and Sam had decided to join as well. Dean was sat next to his brother and was struggling to not look at Castiel, who was sitting next to Luke two seats across from him.

Sam, being the social person that he is, failed to see the tension between the boy and his brother and kept asking him various questions about himself, trying to get to know him better. They were basic questions about favourite hobbies, food, sports teams, but it was a torturous 15 minutes for Dean. Every time he heard the gravelly voice, too deep for a boy his age, it would go straight to his cock. It didn't help that when Sam had first addressed Castiel, causing the boy to choke on his water in surprise, his voice had dropped entire octave and Dean's pants had gotten very tight, despite his session in the shower.

Castiel was fuller than he'd been in a month. The food was delicious and he made a mental note to thank and compliment Kevin on his cooking. During the meal, however, he tried extremely hard to rid Dean from his mind. It didn't work, and he stole glances at the man from across the table, blushing whenever he was caught looking. Sam asking him questions the whole time kept him distracted, however, and he was at least giving coherent answers. Nothing stopped his growing erection, however. Damn teenage recovery times.

Once everyone had finished eating, Dean offered to do the dishes. It was unusual and Sam was suspicious. "Since when do you offer to help? You installed the rule 'cooker does the dishes' because you practically see doing nothing as your job." Sam crossed his arms and looked at his brother accusingly.

"Jesus, Sam," Dean grumbled and picked up a plate to clean, "you really waste no time trying to deduce my every, little movement. What is this, three hours? New record?" Dean snipped, throwing a glare over to his brother. "Not everything I do has ulterior motives."

"Right," Sam dragged put, in a sarcastic tone.

"Fine," Dean snapped, throwing the plate he had been cleaning into the sink, "you finish the dishes." Dean promptly turned on his heels and stalked out of the room.

Watching Dean blow up like that was both scary and extremely sexy. Castiel felt his heart beat a little quicker and a hot flush rise to his neck and cheeks. A surge of confidence shot through him and this time, he was going to act.

Dean was on edge. Castiel's little glances throughout dinner had wound him up. How the boy would look at him through his lashes to avoid being obvious. It was the real reason Dean opted to do the dishes; to get away from Cas.

Dean stormed up the stairs to his room, ignoring the questioning stares of the boys and just avoiding Castiel, the reason he was in this fucking mess. Castiel pushed out of his chair and raced after Dean. The boy caught him on the top of the stairs. Wordlessly, he dragged Dean by the wrist the rest of the way to Dean's room. Cas' fingers tingled as he finally touched Dean. He shut the door behind them and leaned his back against the wood for a second, staring.

Once they were in Dean's bedroom, Castiel let go of Dean's wrist and shut the door. He pushed himself against it, tacking innocence. It pissed Dean off that Castiel was in his room, taunting him, acting out. Castiel was going against his rules.

Castiel couldn't believe he'd just done that. He was inches away from Dean who was looming over him, an expression mixed between shock and frustration gracing his features. Castiel gulped. Was he in trouble?

Acting on instinct, Dean shoved Castiel hard against his door, the teen's head making a harsh crack against the wood. The boy gasped as his head hit the door and Dean gripped Castiel's hips to keep him from moving and pushed himself against the boy, feeling the bulge strain against the denim of his pants. Without a second thought, Dean pushed into Cas, shoving him harder against the door and claimed his lips in a bruising kiss.

Castiel's pain was soon forgotten once Dean finally pressed their lips together. He couldn't help letting out a whimper as he relaxed into the man. Was this real? He found his hands snaking up and around Dean's neck, his fingers brushing into his hair.

"You think you are so good teasing me," Dean growled against the teen's lips, nipping harshly on the bottom. "You think because I've shown you a little attention you can get away with this shit."

When Dean growled out his frustrations, Castiel just moaned and canted his hips up, colliding their clothed cocks together and placing a biting kiss to the man's lips, causing Dean to growl.

Dean removed a hand from the teen's hip and snaked it behind Castiel's head, grabbing a fist full of hair. "I wouldn't do that, Cas," Dean warned in a low growl, his eyes shining with desire.

Dean trailed his lips down Castiel's neck, giving a harsh tug on the teen's hair, pulling his head back to give him better access. Dean began to suck aggressively at Castiel's pulse point, lapping his tongue over the mark and then biting down hard, but not to draw blood. Castiel was whimpering and shifting, trying to get some friction.

Castiel cried out softly as Dean pulled his head back. He breathed harshly, thrusting minutely, rutting into Dean's thigh. The hot-wet-more feeling on his neck eased with the laving of Dean's tongue, soothing the harsh pain that would no doubt become a hickey. When Dean's teeth sank into his neck, Castiel cried out again.

"Dean!" He rolled his hips up again, craving attention to be placed on his cock. "Please, Dean," he murmured. "Please!"

"Shh," Dean soothed, standing up to full height. He gently stroke Castiel's hair. "Patience; we'll get there…later. You should join the other boys now." Dean smiled darkly and opened the door. He gave Castiel a smug smirk and shoved him out of the room.

All of a sudden, Cas found himself on the other side of Dean's door, a hickey blooming on his neck and a hard cock. _That was payback_, Cas thought to himself. He's punishing me for teasing him. There was no other explanation. Cas refused to believe that Dean just didn't want him, as that would make the last five minutes completely redundant. Instead, Castiel floated back to his own room, high on the feeling of acceptance and being owned. That's what it felt like, being owned; a plaything. He could work with this.

"Fuck," Dean cursed to himself. As much fun as it was to tease Cas, he was now so rock hard that he doubted a cold shower would fix it. He was seriously contemplating going back out there and just taking Cas, but he couldn't. He wanted Cas to tease him, to make him feel dirty for wanting a boy almost ten years younger than he.

He also wanted to get to know Cas. Figure out what he liked; what made him scream. Sure, they were in a game of teasing, to see who could break whose restraint first. He would win—that much he was certain. But he was also certain that he wanted Cas and wanted to care for him.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to my friend AndromedaeStarStorm69 for the new title idea!

Thank you to everyone who left a reviewed and read the last chapter. You've really made our day.

Here is chapter two. Again, thank you to my betas waatp and BecauseI'mBatman for looking over this chapter for me. Drag Queen Cas and I both did as well. However, if we missed anything we are sorry.

Warnings: dirty talk, hand jobs and blow jobs

* * *

The next morning, Castiel awoke to the sound of light snores coming from the opposite side of the room. His sleep had been restless, plagued with dreams of Dean's rough hands holding him down as his mouth marked him. Cas brought a hand to his neck where Dean had left a mark the night before. The skin was still raised, but only slightly, and it was low enough that it could be covered by a t-shirt.

_Thank God_, Cas thought, as he didn't know what he would do if he got kicked out the day after he arrived, for fraternizing with Dean's career, no less. If this were going to continue, they would have to be careful.

Dean wasn't fairing as well as the boy, unfortunately. He was irritable after having woken with a hard-on, leading to another session during his morning shower, this time images of Castiel on his knees sucking him off. He seriously was regretting teasing Cas last night and sending him away. If he hadn't... well, he wouldn't be in this situation.

He made his way downstairs, still pissed. Sam noticed but thankfully didn't comment. He just greeted Dean with a simple "good morning" and continued making breakfast. Unfortunately, though, most of the boys were already at the table, including Cas and the only seat available was next to Cas. Fuck!

When Dean took his seat, Cas was already halfway through his serving of breakfast, deep in conversation with Benny, who sat to his right. He barely noticed another person in the room, what with seven other people present.

Once Benny made one last joke about the horse in the bar, Cas laughed, throwing his head back, which collided with something solid on his left side. He turned to see what had assaulted him, and found himself staring at a shoulder; Dean's shoulder.

"Oh," Castiel mumbled. "Hello, Dean." 'When did you get here' was the unspoken addition, along with other questions, mostly involving the night before. Why did you do that? Why did you turn me out after? Did you like it? Can we do it again? Questions raced around Cas' mind, and he dropped his eyes back down to his plate, reluctantly ignoring the green jewels frowning at him. Cas poked at his food with his fork, his other hand coming up to his neck and cupping it protectively. He wished he could keep that mark. If Dean were to say it would never happen again, he would at least want a memento.

Dean just nodded a 'hello' in response to Castiel's greeting, but other than that, the older man kept to himself. Although, he would occasionally let his knee brush against Castiel's or just before he stood up, letting his hand brush along Castiel's inner thigh.

Castiel struggled to ignore Dean and focus on his conversation with Benny, especially when Dean was leaving light touches. He was pulled out of his musing when Dean spoke.

"All right," Dean declared when most boys were gone, leaving Castiel alone with him, "Let's go outside and set you up with a job." Dean smiled at Castiel and walked to the back door in the kitchen. Castiel scrambled to follow Dean out into the crisp morning air.

Castiel hadn't realized how beautiful and open the property was. The yard was large, a spread of green. Rolling hills decorated the backdrop and the sun filtered through tall trees and cast the world in an angelic glow. If Castiel had ever dreamed of a home for himself, he would pick a place like this. With Dean and the others' help, maybe he could become a better person, earn his own money and buy a place like this.

"So," Dean said, clasping his hands and turned to look at Castiel, "I didn't really explain this yesterday, but since this is a correctional home, we assign chores to each of you. You'll do your assigned chores for the full week and then next week you'll switch. It keeps the boys from getting bored." He turned to make sure Castiel was following as he walked towards the shed, the Impala still parked in her spot from last time.

Dean hadn't thought about it at first, but flashes of Castiel in the seat of the Impala, head thrown back like last night, moaning out his name, suddenly intruded his thoughts. Dean groaned lowly, trying to surpass the louder moan he wanted to release. Walking over here was a bad idea.

"Okay, Cas." Dean tried to clear his thoughts, but looking into the deep blue eyes of Castiel's was not helping. "Normally we assign the boys their jobs, but I'm making an exception for you. You can choose any job you want." Dean gave the teen his signature smirk and a wink.

Castiel didn't know where all this confidence came from. Maybe it was knowing he was accepted that was getting to his head. Whatever it was, it made him say the next words.

"I want to give you a blowjob." He knew he would have to do real chores to stay at the house, but for now, they were alone and if Dean was anywhere near as horny as Cas was, this could be an interesting outdoor activity.

If Dean wasn't hard before he was now, all sensible thoughts left his mind. The man swallowed hard and moved closer to Castiel. His eyes were dark and lust filled.

"That is a very serious commitment, Cas," Dean whispered gruffly. "Are you sure you're up for it?"

Cas took a slow breath in as Dean stepped closer. He thought for no longer than a moment before whispering, "I want to make you feel good. It makes me feel good." He raised a hand to Dean's collar, gripping it tight between two fingers. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch, but he figured this way he could test the waters. "Please," he whined. "Let me make you feel good."

"Cas," Dean moaned, hearing the words leave the teen's mouth, grabbing his hands and pinning them to the teen's chest. He really shouldn't be doing this, outside where anyone could walk over and find them. But the thrill of the risk was too irresistible. He wanted to tell Cas to go and leave this while they still could, but Dean felt Castiel shift his hip, brushing his erection of his own. "Fuck!" he growled, "This isn't right."

"Neither was humping my leg last night, but we did that anyway," Castiel said with a smirk. "C'mon, Dean," he whined. "Please?" Castiel pouted, lower lip pushed out so minutely, it almost didn't exist; eyes wide with down-turned brows. His hands roamed, gently caressing the muscles under Dean's shirt. He ran a finger over the man's nipple beneath the cloth, making it stand to attention. "Don't you think my lips would look great around your cock?" Cas murmured in Dean's ear, standing on his toes so he could reach.

Dean let out a small whimper, his control snapping in an instant from Castiel's words. He grabbed the boy's face, crushing their lips together in a fierce kiss. "So wrong," Dean mumbled against Castiel's lips, but it didn't stop him from his attack on the boy. He took one of Castiel's hands and moved it down to his cock.

Castiel moaned hot and wet into Dean's mouth, tongue swiping every tooth, gum and taste bud in Dean's mouth. The older man had already guided Cas' hand to his clothed erection, and the younger boy was rubbing roughly like there was no tomorrow.

"Fuck, Cas," Dean gasped out breathlessly.

Cas curled his free arm around Dean's waist, pushing close to him and fucking his mouth with his own tongue. He tasted of omelet and skin, and Dean.

The probing of Castiel's tongue brought the question _had Cas even done anything like this before, _to Dean's mind. He rutted up his hips into Castiel's hand, trying to create more friction. All Dean wanted to do was push Castiel down to his knees and have him take his cock deep in his mouth; to see those pretty pink lips wrapped around him like the teen had teased. But Dean couldn't—wouldn't do that yet. He'd wait and especially when they weren't in such an open space.

It was all Cas could do to keep his moans quiet as Dean continued to thrust up into his touch. It was the hottest thing he'd done in a while. The last time he'd been this intimate with a man was because he needed the money. And a biker in a bar was willing to give it to him, in exchange for a favour. Castiel shuddered and put that thought from his mind. This was about Dean now. Nothing else mattered.

"Oh, God!" Dean moaned, a little too loudly and promptly bit his lip. "Cas, please, do something," Dean whined when Castiel slowed his palming. He couldn't believe it, he never begged for sex and here he was pleading with Castiel to suck him off with seven other teenagers only a few hundred feet away.

Cas growled against Dean's neck, where he was placing hungry kisses. He chuckled against the man's jaw as he begged, and instead of answering, he moved his kisses south. The hand on Dean's crotch started fiddling with his fly and the hand around Dean's waist slid into his pants, cupping his ass. With every kiss over clothed skin, Cas sank deeper to the ground, until Dean's cock was free from its confines and Cas' knees were in the dirt. Dean's cock was both long and thick and Cas immediately started salivating, his own erection throbbing against the fastening of his new jeans. Cas glanced up to make sure Dean was keeping eye contact before cupping the man's balls and licking a long, hot stripe up the underside of his cock. Cas didn't break focus on those green eyes once. Once he reached the tip, he sucked it into his mouth and then let it out again with an obscene pop.

Dean practically howled, having to bite his lip to keep the cry muffled. Dean didn't know what was happening. Well he did, he was getting sucked off by the seventeen-year-old boy who was placed in his care, and it was fucking hot. Those piercing blue eyes didn't leave his for a second, and he was struggling to not throw his head back and lose the contact. He wanted Cas' eyes on him, and his own eyes on the boy as he came deep in his mouth. He wanted to watch Castiel suck him down, taking everything he gave.

When Castiel took him in his mouth, his tip hit the back of his throat, and Castiel tightened his mouth, creating a tight suction. Dean had to struggle to not grab the dark locks and fuck the boy's mouth senseless; to see those gorgeous blues sparkle with tears and not look away once.

"Shit!" he gasped out when Castiel scrapped his teeth lightly against the length. He finally dropped a hand to Castiel's head, needing something to grip for support, but he never pulled. His back was almost to the impala, her door handle within reach, which Dean quickly took hold of, his grip almost bone breaking.

_Great_, Dean thought, now he would have another reason to avoid being around the Impala with Castiel—the boy on his knees in front of him, while his back was against his beloved car. Jesus, he was going to need a cold shower after every time he drives her.

His mind didn't linger too long as Castiel encased Dean once more, swirling his tongue around the head of his cock. Dean couldn't help but buck his hips into Castiel's mouth when the boy looked at him so innocently and then licked the slit, licking up and smearing the pre-cum.

"Jesus, Cas," Dean panted, feeling his control slowly slip each time Castiel did something new with his mouth and still refused to look away. It was the hottest blowjob he'd ever given and he knew it was the hottest Dean had received. Cas' skilful tongue lapped at the sensitive skin beneath Dean's cockhead and continued staring up at the man buried in his mouth.

Castiel slipped his lips off of the man and kissed his hip before saying, "Fuck my mouth, Sir," in the most innocent tone he could muster. Cas' eyes widened in unabashed excitement when Dean's hips snapped forward again. Castiel then circled his lips around the tip again and waited for a reaction.

As soon as those words were out of Cas' mouth, Dean's control snapped. He let out a growl and released the door handle and moved it to Castiel's hair. Both hands tightened their grip, keeping Castiel's still.

"Oh, God," he cried out when Castiel swept his tongue along the underside of his cock. "Fuck, Cas." He bucked his hips hard, hitting the back of the boy's throat. Dean momentarily stopped, making sure Castiel was okay. The boy moaned approvingly and that was all the confirmation Dean needed before he relentlessly began fucking into Castiel's mouth.

Cas' lips were slick with spit and pre-cum, sliding over Dean's head and shaft as the older man fucked his face. Cas moaned around Dean's cock, loving the feeling of full and warm. His hand drifted toward his own cock, cupping it through his jeans, pressing the heel of his hand down hard to relieve the pressure.

"Shit!" Dean cried out, struggling to keep as quiet as possible and not attract any unwanted attention. Dean bucked his hips over and over; bringing out muffed moans from Castiel, who was taking everything he was giving. His face was flushed, and cum and spit covered his lips; he was truly beautiful like that.

Castiel scrapped his teeth over Dean's shaft again, causing the other man to tighten his grip further and slam a little too hard into the kneeling boy's mouth. Castiel's eyes watered at the harsh act, but he relaxed his muscles, allowing Dean to slip down his throat.

Dean, who had been keeping eye contact with Castiel the whole time, broke the contact, throwing his head back and practically cried out from the feeling of sliding down Castiel's throat. "Shit, baby, like that. God, you're good," he panted out, his voice sounding wrecked.

He looked down at Cas, watching the boy palm himself as his mouth got fucked. "That's it, Cas. Fuck, yes." The sight of Castiel on his knees, Dean's cock slipping in and out of his mouth, while palming his own erection out in the open yard, where anyone could walk over was a sight Dean would not forget anytime soon.

Castiel preened at the breathy praises Dean was bestowing upon him. He quickly undid his own jeans to pull at his own cock; the pressure of it straining against the denim was all too much.

Dean gasped out watching Castiel pull himself out and strokes himself in time with his thrust. "That's it, Cas, touch yourself."

Cas opened his eyes and stared back up at Dean's face, which made Cas gasp around the man's cock. He surprisingly didn't choke, just kept sucking like there was no tomorrow. Cas wrapped a hand around himself, obeying Dean's words and jerked along with the rhythm of Dean's thrusts.

Dean felt the familiar tightness in his stomach.

"Cas, I'm coming," was the only warning Dean gave the teen before he shot his load down his throat.

Cas took Dean's load like a champ, swallowing it down as soon as it spilled from the man. He moaned around Dean's cock, lapping up every bit of cum he was fed. His own hand stilled on his cock, giving all his attention to Dean, kissing and licking, and soothing the spent column of flesh.

"Jesus, Cas," Dean gasped, slumping against the impala, spent. The boy looked up at him, still stroking his cock. "Come here," Dean commanded, holding out his hand for Castiel to take it.

Cas stood, holding Dean's hand loosely between both of his own. He inched close, nuzzling into the older man's neck and kissing the skin over his throat. He hummed happily, wrapping his arms around Dean's middle and rutting his still aching cock into Dean's thigh.

As Dean let Castiel pull him close, he tentatively slipped a hand between them, wrapping it around Castiel's leaking cock. He ran his thumb over the head, spreading the pre-come.

"You're good, Cas," Dean whispered as he slowly pumped Cas, keeping a loose grip on the boy's cock. "So attentive." The pace was slow and torturous; it was risk considering they we out in the open, but the whines Castiel was letting out spurred Dean on.

"O-ohh..." Cas trembled against Dean's chest, paralyzed except for his hips. Dean's touch was too much and not enough all at once. He rutted into Dean's hand, clutching his waist and trying to anchor himself.

"Come on, Cas," Dean encouraged, tightening his grip for a stroke, but then loosening it all together. Dean wrapped his free arm around Castiel's back, keeping him supported as he felt the little trembles convulse through the younger male's body.

"I've got you," he whispered, sliding his hand from the teen's cock and cupped his balls. He gave them a gentle squeeze and slowly travelled back. He trailed his fingers lightly down the length, grabbing hold of the head and pushed the thumb along the slit.

"Come for me like this, Cas. Nothing more than my light touches." Dean's voice was rough and commanding. He eyes lust-blown at the sight of the teen trembling in his arms and grasping at his chest for support. "Come for me, Cas."

And Castiel exploded. He came so hard; stars were present at the edge of his vision. His cum spilled all over Dean's hand and dripped into the dirt beneath them, miraculously missing their clothes.

Cas collapsed into Dean's arms, a dry sob escaping his lips as he buried his face into the older man's neck. He trembled against Dean, knees weak and arms holding tight to his shoulders. He didn't think he could let go if he tried.

Dean slumped against the Impala, with Castiel leaning heavily on him, as he tried to regain control of his legs. "Damn," Dean gasped, leaning his head back against the roof of the car, closing his eyes and breathing heavily. He lightly stroked his fingers through Castiel's sweaty hair. God, they were in so much trouble.

Dean's fingers through his hair were soothing for all of three seconds before guilt and doubt decided to kick in. Cas' breath quickened again, this time not from sexual pleasure.

"Dean," he gasped out, panic gripping his throat in a death hold. "Am I in... t-trouble?" He said the words between harsh inhales; he was freaking out. He'd been through so much, done so much, tried so hard to get here and lead some semblance of a normal life, and he decided to fuck it all up by getting involved with his caretaker of all people. He felt guilty and stricken, but he didn't want this thing between them to end.

Dean's hand froze in Castiel's hair and his eyes snapped open. Castiel's little freak out pulled Dean out of his post-orgasm haze. Shit, he realized. They were outside and indecent—anyone could come out. Dean looked around, making sure no one was a round before helping Castiel stand up and started straightening his clothes.

"No, Cas," Dean said, tucking himself back into his pants, "You're not in trouble, but we both will be if we don't hurry up."

"Dean?" Sam's voice called from the house. "Shit," Dean cursed under his breath. "Stay here and fix yourself up, I'll go distract Sam." Dean fixed his shirt and walked around the Impala and back to the house. Castiel only barely registered Dean telling him to sort himself out before the man was gone.

Cas managed to tidy himself up then curl in on himself, telling himself to calm down. He crouched down and sat against the Impala, head between his knees, forcing his breath to slow. He hoped Dean would be back soon.

"What is it, Sammy?" Dean asked, trying to act innocent and not like he just gotten sucked off from their new board. His brother gave him a questioning look, but didn't comment on his out-of-breath state.

"I'm looking for Cas. Benny came to me asking why the new kid wasn't doing any work." Dean struggled to not correct his brother on the lack of work from Cas.

"Oh, right," Dean said, trying to clear his suddenly dried throat. "He's helping me with Baby," Dean answered simply. Sam just rolled his eyes and sighed loudly.

"Your infatuation for that car is not natural," Sam commented, moving to go back to the house, but stopped when something caught his attention.

"Wait. You said Castiel was helping you?" Sam stared down at Dean, who was more than a foot shorter standing on a step lower than Sam's.

"Yeah?" Dean said carefully, trying to keep his voice even. "So? He didn't want to work in the garden so I let him pick something else," he explained simply.

"You let him choose?" Sam questioned, giving his brother a scrutinizing look. "We never let them choose, Dean. You said it yourself; giving the boys a choice gives them too much freedom. That's why we switch up the tasks every week." Dean didn't have an answer for that and remained silent. Sam looked over at the Impala, but couldn't see Castiel on the other side, luckily.

"Dean!" Sam snarled, as if he caught on, but he looked more warning than angry.

"It's nothing!" Dean jumped in before his brother could accuse him of doing something he was guilty for, but didn't want to admit to. "It's nothing, Sammy," Dean repeated. "The kid just reminds me of me, and I want to help him, like Sonny did for me."

Sam inhaled deeply, but his face softened slightly at his brother's confession. The confession wasn't a total lie, Dean just let out the part of 'helping' translated to wanting to slam Castiel against the hood of the Impala and fuck. The sudden thought of Castiel bent over his car was suddenly endearing. But, no, he wouldn't do it, at least not yet. He wanted to move slowly with Cas, didn't want to push him into anything he wasn't ready for. However, Castiel hadn't been complaining when he was getting his mouth fucked.

"Just be careful, Dean," Sam said softly. "We don't want it to look like you're showing favouritism." Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Sam.

"I know, Sammy. I'll be careful." Dean nodded his head in understanding and Sam did the same.

"Lunch will be in about a half hour," was all Sam said before disappearing back into the house. _Jesus_, Dean swore internally, did he really just spend the morning getting sucked off by Castiel? But that was probably the best blowjob he'd ever received, and by a kid too.

"Shit," Dean muttered out loud; he was going to Hell for sure.

Cas managed to get his breathing under control by the time Dean came back, now standing and leaning against the shed wall, which housed Dean's precious car. He was hankering for a joint, but even he wasn't stupid enough to light up on his second day at a correctional home. So he settled for contemplating what the hell was going on between himself and the caregiver. Dean was kind stereotypically, generously trying to please everyone equally. Well, maybe with a bit more attention toward Cas, but the principle was the same.

Cas' anxieties hindered him from being comfortable in the house yet, but the Winchester brothers and Kevin were so accommodating, Cas knew he'd be considered one of them in no time. He felt a little better about himself as Dean rounded the corner.

Cas let the man approach before asking his question, "So... What are we gonna do?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders and then looked at Castiel. "I don't know," he replied honestly, still trying to get his head wrapped around what they had just done. He wanted Cas again; that much he was sure of, but he didn't know if the boy would be willing.

"We have to be more careful," Dean decided to settle with, looking at the boy directly in the eye. It was almost too much to see those piercing blues stare at him so trustingly. It brought back a flood of memories of Castiel on his knees just minutes ago and a struggling urge to not take Cas here and now.

"Lunch will be soon," Dean said quickly, setting up his escape. "Go do whatever you want until then." The young man then turned on his heels and left. He knew he was acting like a dick, but it was for the best, to protect Cas...At least that's what he told himself.

Castiel stood in the shed, dumbfounded, watching the man retreat back to the house. Why was he acting so cold? They'd only just had the hottest sexual encounter Cas had ever had, and Dean seemed to love it too. So what made him snap so quickly? Cas kicked a rock toward the opening of the shed and followed it. He kept kicking it toward the house, taking as long as he could to get inside. With every kick, he listed a reason as to why Dean wouldn't want him. Too young. Kick. Too handsy. Kick. Not attractive enough. Kick. Cas was the most self-deprecating person he knew. If something turned out wrong or didn't go as planned, he blamed himself and his endless list of flaws. Shuffling back to the house, he added new ones to the list.

In the time between leaving Cas and lunch, Dean spent it in his room, much to Sam's annoyance. "Dean, for fuck's sakes, get your ass out here and supervise! I can't be stuck in here and watching everyone at the same time. When Kevin gets back then you can slack off, like you normally do." Sam mumbled the last part, but Dean still heard it through the wooden door. "Go away, Sam," Dean snapped and threw a pillow at the door.

He heard his brother groan and his footsteps fade away. Dean was miserable, pissed, disgusted. How could he had let that happen? He didn't regret what he and Cas had done. It had been perfect. He only regretted how he had let it happen. He was Cas' caregiver. If anyone found out it would mean big trouble for him, despite it being consensual.

_Then be careful_, a voice suggested in his head, causing Dean to groan loudly and bury his head deeper into the pillow. Why were all the best things in life forbidden?


	3. Chapter 3

First off, sorry this chapter is a little late. Dragqueencas and I had a busy week, so it took us a bite to look it over one last time. Also we made a couple changes, so that took a bite of time too.

We also changed the name from "Safe With You" to "Vetito". And I want to give a huge shout of to my friend AndromedaeStarStorm69 for helping me out with the new title. You are awesome!

Constructive criticism is welcome.

Warnings: rimming, oral and anal sex

* * *

The next two weeks was fraught with tension. Cas felt shitty about himself, but it didn't stop him from flirting with Dean every chance he got.

Cas got his actual chore after lunch, helping Kevin with everything in the kitchen. He did simple tasks, such as cleaning dishes, peeling potatoes and putting pots of water on the stove. Cas loved it. He loved providing for others, even though Kevin did most of the work. Cas still felt important. The job also allowed opportunities to tease Dean—frequently. If he happened to be in the kitchen at the same time as Cas, the young boy would find as many ways as possible to show Dean what he was missing out on. Carrots, bananas, knives, anything that was long and could be construed as a dick, Cas played with it. He was cutting carrots for a soup, and Dean was watching him. So Cas held the carrot upright and gripped it with his fist, slowly and subtly moving his wrist up and down.

At lunch one day, Cas had a banana, which he ate as slowly and seductively as possible. It was all for Dean, to see the look on his face—the sheen over his eyes, his Adam's apple as he swallowed, his knuckles white on the tablecloth. Cas loved it.

Cas was doing it on purpose, Dean told himself. There was no way someone would eat such foods that way and not know they were consciously blowing strategically shaped food.

Dean had taken to avoiding the kitchen, unable to watch Cas eat without wanting to fuck the boy on the counter, despite Kevin's presence. He started to take over the yard work, much to Sam's suspicions, but luckily, he wasn't obvious enough to fall victim to his brother's questioning.

It had been three weeks now since the infamous "blow job" was performed and Dean was currently jacking off to the thought of how the banana looked sliding into Castiel's mouth The worst part was, Cas knew he was doing it; knew what Dean was feeling. Castiel had only smirked when he saw Dean's knuckles turn white as Dean held a death grip on the tablecloth.

Dean was trying to do right by Cas and hold back, give the boy a chance. Not to defile and use him; he would never use Cas, but the type of relationship Dean wanted would not look like that to an outsider. And it was so wrong lusting after a boy put into his care. So wrong.

For Castiel, every night was a struggle now. The way Dean would gaze at him, as if he wanted to devour him, made Castiel tingle with anticipation. Every night, he volunteered to take the last shower. He took the longest, but no one noticed, or they didn't care. He jacked-off in the shower every night after cleaning the dishes from dinner and all of his fantasies involved Dean.

On the night before chores were rotated, dinner was eaten late and the boys all stayed up to watch _Die Hard_. Sam wanted them all to go to bed, but Dean had argued in their defense. It was a Saturday after all. So Sam succumbed, and they were all squished onto the couches, save a few who were sprawled on the floor.

Kevin had shown Cas how to make apple turnovers, and everyone was eating his first batch, complimenting him on his successful first try. Cas just smiled and blushed at everyone's praise, but the one person whose approval he craved most was just staring at him and eating his dessert. Castiel gulped and tried to relax and watch the movie.

Dean was sitting on the opposite side of the room, and Cas swore it was intentional. He was sick of being pushed back and ignored. So after the movie, after he and Kevin cleaned the dishes and everyone else had gone to their respective rooms, Castiel sneaked up the stairs and slipped quietly into Dean's room.

Dean was in Hell. It was official and he could do nothing about it. They had just finished watching _Die Hard_, which Sam had been against, but after much arguing agreed to.

Dean struggled throughout the whole movie to not look over at Cas. He had an opportunity to sit next to him, but refused, not trusting himself to be next to the boy; in a dark room, easily forgetting the others were nearby.

He was in his room now, as the boys all headed to bed, Dean slipped under his blankets, slowly stroking himself to the thought of yet another fantasy involving Cas and him, this time fucking in the kitchen, while the other boys were just feet away in the other room.

He groaned quietly, feeling the familiar pull in the pit of his stomach as he was about to come. The sound of his door handle turning stilled Dean's hand and slight panic took over. He hoped it wasn't one of the younger boys that sometimes came in because they missed their family and wanted comfort. He wouldn't be able to explain himself out of this situation.

In the dark, Dean was unusually still. It was almost like he was holding his breath. "Dean?" Cas called softly, careful not to be heard by anyone who might be in the hall.

Dean froze when he heard the soft voice. He swore his heart stopped for a second. "Cas?" he replied softly, he voice breaking at the end. He tucked himself back into his boxers, trying to not make the movements obvious. His only hope was that the darkness of the room hid it for him.

Cas shuffled awkwardly forward, stopping at the end of the bed. "C-can we uhh... Can we t-talk? Or... Something?" he stammered out. God, his heart was pounding so hard, he thought he might break a rib.

Dean sat up, carefully watching Cas walk towards his bed. _Shit, this can't be happening!_ he thought. He knew he should tell Castiel to leave, to go back to his own room. But being the selfish bastard that he is, he welcomed Cas in. "Come here," he commanded, gesturing for Castiel to come closer. "What is it?"

Cas moved slowly, not wanting to over step any boundaries. Although, the man had fucked his face; he was pretty sure there weren't many boundaries. Cas tucked himself into a ball on the end of Dean's bed, drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins.

"About the other day," he whispered. "I uhh... I really liked it. And I know it's p-probably wrong, b-but I want to d-do that again." He glanced up at Dean through his lashes, head down and shaggy hair over his face. "I want to m-make you f-feel good."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing—was Castiel really asking for what has been his fantasy for the past few weeks?

The sight of Castiel curled on his bed was enough to send Dean into another frenzy. "You do realize the kind of commitment you'll be making," Dean whispered hoarsely, his throat suddenly feeling dry and his blood rushing south when Castiel looked up, his eyes shining in the darkness.

Dean reached out, pulling Castiel closer to him. "I don't take your request lightly," Dean whispered, giving a hinted warning.

"And I didn't ask lightly," was Cas' firm reply. He was suddenly extremely confident, his previous nerves forgotten. He let Dean pull him closer, and he clambered the rest of the way onto his lap himself. He surged forward, straddling Dean's legs with the crack of his ass hovering right above Dean's cock. His own stirred in anticipation. "I want you. And I want you to want me. I can be good. I can behave." And Cas didn't know where that came from, but he knew he meant it. He didn't know exactly where this was going, but he was sure he wanted it.

Dean grabbed onto Castiel's hips, flipping them over so Castiel was now under him. He rutted his newly hardened cock against Castiel's. "We do this, Cas, there's no going back," Dean warned, his fingers tightening their grip, nails biting into the boy's flesh, keeping him from moving his hips.

"No one can know," he said, trailing his lips down Castiel's jaw and neck, letting his teeth scrap against the skin. He stopped just at the boy's collarbone. "Promise me," he mumbled before finally latching on, sucking harshly on the skin.

Cas gasped as Dean flipped them and pushed his hips flush against his own. He whined at the feel of harsh stubble rubbing across his smooth cheek, clutching at the older man's bare shoulders. He paid every ounce of his attention to Dean's words, but he was still distracted by the man's hands and mouth on him."I promise," he breathed, just as Dean's hot mouth sucked on the delicate skin of his collarbone. He cried out, then clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the sounds he knew he couldn't keep in.

Dean smirked darkly at Castiel's confirmation and bit down harder, lapping the skin soothingly with his tongue. Castiel started to cry out which turned into a struggling whimper. Dean moved his mouth down, leaving little bites along the boy's skin.

Castiel's shirt restricted Dean's access to the boy's chest. He yanked Castiel up, only to assist himself in getting the offensive garment off. With a little cooperation from Cas, the dark t-shirt landed on the ground, exposing Castiel.

The man growled out quietly. He pushed the boy back down, shifting himself so he was straddling the boy's hips.

"So perfect," he whispered to himself, letting his eye rake over the dark-haired teen and descended his lips to Castiel's chest, causing the boy groan out.

He kissed along Castiel's neck to his left shoulder. Two circular scars marked Castiel's skin, just below his clavicle. The scars eerily resembled bullet wounds, but it couldn't be, could it?

Castiel felt Dean's hesitation and opened his eyes, seeing Dean study his marked skin. "It's nothing," Castiel found himself mumble. "Please, it's nothing,"Castiel reassured when Dean bit his lip and looked at Castiel with reserve.

"Honestly, it's nothing." Castiel ran his hand up Dean's chest, and snaked his hand behind Dean's neck, pulling the man to him. "Please," Castiel whispered, before placing his lips to Dean's. Dean stiffened for a moment. The marks had piqued Dean's interest; it was never stated on Castiel's record that he was shot.

Dean was still, but then Castiel started to lightly nibble on his lip and Dean slowly let himself give in to Castiel's offer; the circular scars pushed to the back of his mind for later.

Dean growled when Castiel pulled at his lip. Dean quickly moved back down Castiel's neck to his chest, peppering kisses as he went. Dean bit down gently on one of Castiel's nipples, rolling the nub between his teeth and sucking on it.

Cas skin was tingling, buzzing from the attention laved on it by Dean. He knew Dean wasn't going to let go what just happened, but he would take whatever time he was given to stall.

A solid weight pressed itself over Cas' hips, and how could he complain when it was Dean's ass that was grinding down on his cock? Cas preened at the praise that Dean bestowed upon him. The happy hum turned into a whine as Dean's tongue, teeth and lips found their home around his nipple. Cas' fingers held a death grip in Dean's hair, and he refused to let up.

Dean growled when Castiel's hand made purchase with his hair. It was almost painful, but he loved the fact that it was his ministrations causing Castiel to act like this. He released Castiel's nipple, now a bright red and moved to the other one, repeating the action. He could feel Castiel harden against him and attempt to buck to create some friction, but Dean's grip held firm, preventing the boy from further movements.

"You're mine tonight," Dean whispered, moving his mouth back up Castiel's neck and to his jaw. "I am taking my damn time with you." The man nipped harshly at the skin by his chin, but not hard enough to leave a mark.

Cas let out a moan, his hips wiggling in earnest, trying to rub himself up into Dean, but to no avail.

"Please," he whimpered. "Please, Dean. Need it. Need you." His voice was whiny and broken, his hands quivering and lips trembling. He was so hard, he thought he might die.

Dean only chuckled, not dignifying Castiel's plea with an answer but moving his hands to the waistband of his pajama pants. "Lift," Dean ordered and tugged the bottoms down when Castiel obliged.

He tossed them carelessly to the floor, not bothering to look anywhere but at the gorgeous boy spread out below him. Dean let his eyes travel all over Castiel's naked form. His cock was hard and erect against his stomach, leaking beads of pre-come onto his stomach.

"So beautiful," Dean spoke to himself, his eyes focused on the throbbing member and the temptation to take it into his mouth and make Castiel wither beneath him.

The worshipful gaze Dean stared at him with caused a blush to creep over Cas face. He'd never been looked at like that. He was addicted already. Dean moved back and dropped his head, now aligned with Castiel's cock. He swept his tongue against the boy's balls and up along the underside of his cock and back down; still keeping his hands on Castiel's hips.

Cas gasped at the feel of a hot tongue licking stripes up his cock, hands now twisting into the sheets. "Dean!" he cried out softly. "Oh, God!"

Dean licked his way back up, stopping just above the leaky head. He lapped up the drops of pre-come, looking at Castiel with his head thrown back and fisting the sheets below him. Dean smirked defiantly and swallowed Castiel in one go, without any warning for the boy.

"O-ooh!" Cas cried out as he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of Dean's throat. He subconsciously bucked his hips forward, but they were held down by Dean's forearm across his waist.

Dean smirked around Castiel, as the boy struggled against his hold. He slowly licked back up, leaving only the tip in. He pressed his tongue into the slit and sank back down on the member. He hummed approvingly, sending vibrations through Castiel, causing the boy to raise himself off the bed in response.

He was half sitting when he curled his fingers back into Dean's hair, gasping and whining and shaking. "Dean, Dean please. Please!" He didn't even know what he was asking for, but he knew whatever it was, he wanted it.

Dean released Castiel with an audible pop. He smirked up at the pleading boy. "Patience," was all he said, before moving a hand from Castiel's hip and gently stroke it through the dark locks.

He moved his hands behind Castiel, cupping the boy's ass, softly caressing his cheeks and lifted him off the bed. Dean gave Castiel a cocky smirk and lowered his head. He licked over the ring of muscle, feeling Castiel tense up for a moment. Dean carried on, pressing his tongue forcefully against Castiel's hole, slowly working into it.

Cas didn't think he could ever get enough of Dean's tongue. He spread his legs wide so Dean could access his hole better, moaning and whimpering and trembling on the bed. He sighed a mantra of, "Dean, Dean, Dean," over and over. He reached out for Dean's hand, needing something to keep him grounded. Dean let him take it, curling his fingers between Cas' and letting the boy grasp his knuckles.

The feeling of their hands connecting sent an overwhelming surge of joy through Dean; it was such an intimate act.

The little noises Castiel was making, trying to hold back, spurred Dean on more. Dean pressed his tongue against Castiel's hole, pushing it in to spread him open.

Cas curved and arched, sighing and moaning at the feel of hot, wet, good as he fucked himself onto Dean's tongue. It was all too much and not enough for the boy and he wanted more.

"Dean," he pleaded. "Please, God, more! I need it. I need you. Please." He pushed his voice into the air, and it cracked around his ears. God, he sounded greedy.

Dean pulled back, licking around Castiel's hole once before crawling up. "Quiet, Cas, or this stops." Dean loved the noises he was pulling from the boy's mouth, but if one of the other boys or Sam were to awake, it would be over before it even started.

Castiel huffed his impatience at the loss of Dean's tongue, but nodded fervently at his words. He understood. He should've been quieter in the first place.

He captured Castiel's lips in a fierce kiss, nipping lightly on his bottom lip. Cas hummed gently into the kiss, trying hard to keep his voice low. But when Dean pulled back, he whined again at the loss.

Dean reached over to his nightstand, pulling open the drawer and retrieving the bottle of lube and a condom. The snap of the cap echoed in the quiet room, aside for both males' harsh breathing. Dean slicked up his fingers, trailing one finger down Castiel's crack before slipping it into the worked hole.

He wasn't sure what happened between then and when Dean slipped a finger inside of him, but he didn't really care. Dean was fucking him with a finger, and Castiel was biting his knuckles to keep from making too much noise. His breath huffed out messily around his fist, and his legs were pulled back, knees in the air, taking Dean's finger like a pro.

"Dean," he tried to whisper; it came out more like a broken sigh. "Please, more. I can take it. I can be good."

Dean slipped another finger in, but didn't wait too long before pushing in a third, enjoying the sight of Castiel arching off the bed. He crooked his fingers, hitting Castiel's prostate.

Cas was squirming and moaning at the too full, not full enough feeling, fucking back onto Dean's fingers. He gasped and nearly cried out when a fingernail grazed his prostate, stifling the noise with his teeth biting into his wrist.

Dean was hard now, tenting his boxers, pre-come staining the fabric.

"Shit, Cas," Dean groaned softly as Castiel pushed himself against the man's fingers. He tightened his grip on Castiel's hip, keeping him still. "Be good," he commanded.

And when Dean gave him his order, how could Cas refuse? The boy stopped wriggling, lying as still as possible on his back, still biting his arm with his other hand cupping his own cock. He wanted to show Dean he could behave. Wanted him to see how good he could be.

As soon as Castiel stilled, attempting to obey Dean's demand, he began to restlessly hit the boy's prostate, testing the boy's restraint.

"God, you're an obedient thing," Dean praised, releasing Castiel's hip and slipping his hand into his own boxers, pulling out his leaking member, stroking it in sync with his fingers.

"Do you want this, Cas," Dean taunted, seeing Castiel's struggle to remain still and quiet. "To come on my fingers, splitting you open, where anyone could walk in?" Dean had to admit, the risk of getting caught this time was even greater, and the tempting urge to fuck into Cas, fully taking him for himself, was almost too much.

Cas nodded, not wanting to make a sound unless he was caught.

But Dean's words sent shivers through him, making him buck unexpectedly, and Cas gasped. "I'm so sorry, Dean!" he hissed, feeling guilty. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry."

"Shhh," Dean shushed, removing his hand from his member and stroked his fingers through the boy's sweaty hair. Cas nuzzled into the touch of Dean's hand through his hair, cooing as thick fingers still pumped into him. "It's all right, baby." Dean pecked Castiel's lips and pulled back. Dean's hands were then gone and Castiel was empty. He moaned at the loss, scrabbling at Dean as he left the bed, wanting him back.

Dean got off the bed, discarding his boxers, leaving himself fully exposed. Castiel stilled when Dean removed his boxers, watching the fabric slide over his tanned skin. His hard cock bobbed free and stood to attention. Dean smirked, enjoying the sight of the boy's gaze linger on his erect member.

Dean got back on the bed, crawling over Castiel. The boy made a wanton sound as Dean settled back over him.

"Oh, God," he muttered. "Please, Dean, hurry. Need you. Want you. I'm so empty."

Dean moaned lowly, grabbing the lube and spreading an ample amount over his uncovered cock. He tossed the bottle carelessly to the floor, too far gone to realize his mistake.

"God, you're beautiful," Dean whispered, looking up Cas' body as the man slowly crawled over him, aligning his cock with the boy's hole. "But you need to learn patience."

Cas blushed at the compliment, gasping at the feel of Dean's cockhead brushing gently across his slick hole. He wriggled, trying to push his hips so that Dean would be closer.

He smirked as the idea of punishing Cas filled his head, but that would be for later. He kissed up his chest and neck, biting and sucking on the exposed skin; marking him as his. "Ready?" he asked when he let the tip brush against his hole, but not daring to push forward.

The feeling of the older man's hot lips on his skin made Castiel shudder out a breath. His response to Dean's question was an arched back and a whimpering moan which was cut short by Dean's lips smothering his own. Dean took Castiel's movements and whimpers as a "yes".

He kissed the boy once, roughly capturing his lips and nipping harshly at his bottom lip. Dean pushed in slowly, struggling to not just shove himself in with one thrust as he spread the boy wider.

Castiel growled into the contact and hissed at the gentle nip at his lower lip. And then he was being split open on Dean's cock, slowly inching its way in, causing Cas to shiver and moan, almost crying out. He loved the harsh burn it caused, not used to Dean's size.

Once Dean was sheathed inside him, he remained still, waiting patiently for Cas to adjust to the intrusion.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," Cas whispered against Dean's cheek. "Dean. Oh, Dean!"

"Jesus Christ," Dean groaned, burying his face in Castiel's shoulder, struggling to remain as still as possible. "So fucking tight." When he felt the boy shift his hips he took it as the 'okay.'

Slowly he pulled out about halfway, and then pushed back in, each thrust pulling more and more out. The pace was slow and torturous. Castiel's hole was tight and hot against him, making it difficult to control himself.

Cas exhaled sharply at the end of a moan with each thrust, Dean's cock filling him so well, he never wanted to be empty again. He clawed his nails into Dean's sides, pulling him close at the same time as rocking his own hips, burying the man deeper inside him. The pace was still unbearably slow, though, so Cas took it upon himself to speed things up. He rocked his hips a little faster, whining at the sensations.

"Dean," he pleaded. "Please, more. Please. I can take it. I'll be good. I promise. Please."

With those words, Dean's control snapped, as he'd already been walking a fine line. Dean pulled himself back, leaving only the tip sheathed before pushing himself back in harshly. He repeated his movements, continuing the almost brutal pace, but Castiel was writhing and moaning—scratching and clutching Dean's back roughly. He had no doubt that the boy would leave marks, but he would worry about that later.

Castiel had to shove half his fist in his mouth to keep quiet once Dean started fucking into him without restraint. He tried to move his hips, to bring himself, if possible, closer to Dean.

Dean grabbed Castiel's right hip, keeping the boy from bucking too much. His grip was a lot tighter than before, but he couldn't bring himself to notice, or care. He used his other hand to grab Castiel's knee, pushing it towards his shoulder, creating a new angle.

"God, yes," Dean cried out, dropping his head down, trying to muffle his cries as he slid deeper into Castiel, knowingly hitting his prostate. "Oh, fuck, Cas."

Cas cried out against his fist, the sound muffled, but only slightly. He buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck, tears stinging his face in frustration and pleasure. He needed to come. He needed it or he'd explode.

"Dean," he strained out, trying to keep his voice low. "I need - please - c-can't t-take... D-Dean!"

"Touch yourself," Dean whispered harshly, coming out more as a pant than a whisper. Dean pulled back, to ease up. His looked at Cas, flushed, tearstained cheeks, his eyes shut tightly. The boy was still clawing at Dean's back, blunt finger nails leaving their mark. He made no movement nor indication that he had heard Dean. The man crushed his mouth to Castiel's mouth, nipping harshly at his lips once before moving his mouth back to the boy's ear. "I said: touch yourself," he growled, bucking his hips up, causing his cock to hit Cas' prostate almost brutally.

"I-I c-can't," Cas whined, but he moved his hand to his leaking cock anyway, pumping erratically. He cried out at the feeling of Dean's cock hitting his prostate again and again.

"That's it, Cas," Dean encouraged when he saw Castiel's hand grip his cock. The sight was overwhelming, seeing Castiel touch himself, his head thrown back, tears escaping his eyes and little whimpers slipping past his lips no matter how hard he tried to hold back. Dean gripped his hands around Castiel's hip and knee, striking his prostate again until Cas was crying out in pleasure.

Dean's breath on Castiel's face and rough hands around him pushed him ever closer to the edge.

"D-Dean, I-I'm gonna, I'm g-gonna..." He finished his sentence by spilling his come all over his own stomach with a gasp of Dean's name on his lips.

Dean couldn't hold on any longer. Having already been dangerously close when Cas interrupted him, he gave two more thrust before his own orgasm washed over him. He gave a sharp cry, into Castiel's neck, the boy's name coming out like a prayer.

Castiel lay limp across Dean's bed, letting the man continue to fuck into him until his own orgasm overcame him, and he was filling Castiel up with come. Cas groaned at the feeling of warm wetness filling his hole, cooing at the sound of Dean's voice chanting his name. He wrapped his limbs around Dean, wanting him to stay inside him forever.

Dean, too weak to stay up any longer, collapsed onto Castiel. The feeling of their slick skin against each other was welcoming.

"God, Cas," Dean gasped out, still trying to regain control of his breathing. He ran his fingers through the teen's sweaty hair, stroking his scalp soothingly. "Are you okay?" he asked, making a move to get off of Cas, not wanting to crush him and feeling a little guilty for the brutal assault he put him though. He wasn't sure Cas had been ready for that.

"I'm perfect," the teen hummed happily, leaning into the touch of Dean's fingers in his hair. Cas squirmed, slightly uncomfortable and slightly turned on by the full ass of come he was now the owner of. He let out a soft giggle. "Did I do well, Dean?" he asked. "Did I behave?"

"You were perfect," Dean praised, placing a chaste kiss to Castiel's lips. Dean shifted, feeling his come leak from Castiel's hole and onto their thighs.

"Shit," Dean said, looking to his nightstand to see the unopened condom lying next to the clock radio. "I forgot the condom," Dean confessed, seeing Castiel's confused face.

Cas giggled again, his post-sex haze making him heady and light. "I don't mind," he whispered seductively, mouthing a kiss to Dean's jaw. "It's hot. And I'm clean," he mumbled, pulling back.

"Still, Cas that was reckless." Sure, he was clean too, but they shouldn't have even done anything like that to broach the subject. "Hey, it's fine," Cas soothed, running a hand up Dean's chest and too his neck, cupping his cheek.

It was little comical that a seventeen-year-old had to reassure Dean, but the knowledge of what they just did was slowly hitting him.

Dean just nodded, still feeling guilty, but said nothing more on the subject. He pulled out, causing a sigh from Cas, and then dropped heavily down next to Castiel. He wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist, pulling the teen into his side.

Castiel moved up to the man and resting contentedly in his arms. He couldn't help but think he was being used, though.

"Dean?" he ventured, unsure. "What is this to you?"

Dean sighed heavily, looking up at the dark ceiling, running a hand up and down Castiel's arm.

"I don't know," the man replied honesty. "I mean, I enjoy this—hell I love it, but we can't always do this." Dean turned his head, seeing Castiel look up at him with hesitant eyes. "we can't deny there is something between us, but it's dangerous. It can't happen like this." Dean gestured around his bedroom.

Cas frowned, Dean's hand on his arm doing little to soothe him.

"I want to keep doing this," he answered quickly. "There's something about you that I can't get enough of." Cas pressed his forehead to Dean's shoulder, huffing impatiently, petulant about the whole situation. He just wanted to be Dean's. "I'm eighteen in a few months," he murmured, "if that changes anything."

"Jesus, Cas," Dean sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "This has nothing to do with your age. I mean, technically it is illegal... I'm you're guardian, but the fact that you're seventeen has nothing to do with this." Dean moved, propping himself up on his elbow. "I'm saying: we have to be careful around the others."

Cas smirked. "You're talking to a master of invisibility, Dean," he said in a condescending tone. "I'm a former street-rat, remember? I'm damn good at keeping things hidden. Especially things I like." At this last, Cas smoothed a hand over Dean's muscled chest with a sense of ownership he wasn't sure he was allowed to have. All he knew was that this man wanted him.

Dean caught Castiel's wandering hand and laced their fingers together. He didn't like hearing Castiel talk so nonchalantly about his past, but he didn't say anything. He just enjoyed the closeness of the teen wrapped around him.

They stayed like that for a long time, just enjoying listening to the sounds of each other's breathing and the comfort of being in each other's arms. Reluctantly, at half past four, Dean shook Castiel awake.

Castiel was confused to be shaken awake, and taking in the unfamiliar location and the presence of another person, but it soon came rushing back to him. He chuckled and rubbed his eyes.

"Hey," Dean whispered, seeing the bleary look on Castiel's face. "You need to go back to your room. Everyone will be up soon." Dean didn't want to send Castiel away, but it would be too conspicuous if Benny or Luke were to wake and see Cas missing. That would certainly alert them to tell either him or Sam and both options would lead to them being discovered, and so early in their... Whatever this was.

Dean's words registered to Castiel quickly. "Yes, I suppose I should return to the others," he sighed, but didn't move an inch. He stayed put for a few moments longer, arms tightening around Dean briefly before finally slipping out of bed. He leaned over to kiss Dean one more time tonight.

Dean tangled his hand in Castiel's hair, cupping the back of his head gently, relishing in their kiss. It was slow and they savoured it, not sure when they could do this again. Dean would love to kiss Cas like this all the time, but he knew it was too risky and they would have to be careful.

"Have a shower too," Dean chuckled, watching Castiel slip back into his pajamas. As much as he loved the thoroughly fucked look on Cas, they both smelt of sex and would draw suspicions.

Castiel nodded and bid him a good night.

"Goodnight, Dean." The boy smiled, and with that, Castiel shrugged into his discarded pajamas and slipped back out of Dean's room.

"See you later, Cas," Dean responded and collapsed back on his bed after the door closed. The sound of the door echoing around the room chilled Dean as the realization of what he had just done hit him.

"Fuck. Oh shit." Dean sat back up and pushed a hand though his hair, yanking on strands. He felt sick. He just had sex with a seventeen-year-old—a boy placed under his care. This was all kinds of wrong. There was no way this could be right. But what Dean couldn't shake was the feel of how incredible it had been, how much they had clicked.

He didn't know what the hell this was, but he knew one thing: they couldn't let anyone know. Sam could never know. The things he had said to Cas were wrong. He hadn't been thinking clearly, he shouldn't have promised him anything.

Castiel detoured to the bathroom before he went to bed, and contemplated everything that had happened between him and Dean since the day he arrived. He pretended the warm water cascading over him was Dean's lips, and he was rock hard in no time. He beat off quickly, knowing he needed to get back to his room. Cas came in ropes that painted the tiled wall and shut the water off. He snuck back into his room, hoping to crawl back into bed unnoticed. Luke stirred. Cas froze; a set of dark eyes caught his and his breath stopped.

"Where are you coming back from, Novak?" was the harsh whisper.

"Wanted the first shower," Cas lied before crawling into bed. "You guys use all the hot water."


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the slight delay. It's been a busy week. Hopefully next week's chapter will be on time.

Thank you again to my lovely co-author Dragqueencas!

Warnings: Oral sex and frottage

* * *

Dean woke up again at seven, having not been able to fall back asleep after Castiel left. He was busy flipping pancakes when Sam came downstairs.

"You're up early," his brother commented, eyeing the back of Dean suspiciously. "Couldn't sleep," Dean replied, keeping his attention to the pan, not trusting himself to be impassive.

"Mmm," was the response Sam made as he walked over to the cupboards next to the sink. He retrieved enough plates for the boys and walked into the dining room.

Dean was on edge; he was nervous to face Cas for the first time since last night. He knew he couldn't act differently towards the boy, but it was also Sam that worried him. His brother had a scary ability to accurately read people and pick up on subtle changes.

Dean was worried and yet slightly grateful—Cas hasn't shown up for breakfast yet. He didn't know if he really wanted to face the boy right now. God, he should feel so guilty for what had happened, but he almost didn't. Sam didn't ask him to go look for him, probably just assumed Cas was adjusting to his new life, but Dean couldn't help the sickening feeling that Cas was resenting him. Had he taken it too far?

Cas slept through breakfast. Well, he laid in bed avoiding Dean while the others ate pancakes. He knew because the smell was wafting up the stairs. But Castiel wasn't hungry.

He only got up at 8:30 to complete his chores; which today involved washing up everyone's breakfast dishes. He looked over his shoulder for Dean, making sure he wouldn't be seen and cornered. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Dean; it was that if he did, he didn't think he'd be able to control himself, especially after the night before.

Dean was standing outside, watching the boys as they mowed the lawn or washed the windows. Normally they didn't really stay with the boys, trusting them enough to be on their own, but he had to get away from anything that reminded him of Cas. He didn't trust himself and he needed to clear his head.

It was lunchtime when he finally saw Castiel since this morning when he had to tell the boy to leave. His hair was messy—obviously the teen hadn't done anything to it besides washing it—and Dean had to fight himself to not just reach out and run his fingers through it.

Castiel had his back to the man, scrubbing the counter clean; his job was also to clean the kitchen. As Dean stepped closer, Castiel didn't halt in his task so Dean figured he hadn't heard him come in.

"Want to help me with lunch?" he asked quietly.

Cas was muttering under his breath as he scrubbed at a stain that looked twenty-five years old. He'd taken to cleaning every surface of the kitchen possible—it distracted him easily from Dean. So Cas wasn't expecting to hear the man's voice sounding from behind him. Cas jumped, gasping and dropping the scrubbing brush to the floor. Once he'd settled enough that he could speak without stuttering, Cas nodded.

"Yes, Dean. I would like that." Cas started removing his rubber gloves, picking up the brush and depositing the cleaning items into their respective carrier on the bench. "What are we making?"

Dean smirked and walked over to Castiel, cornering the boy between himself and the counter. "What would you like?" he teased knowing full well that he was intending to just make sandwiches again, but took delight in the boys eyes raking over him.

He knew they should really talk about what happened like last night, but it didn't really hurt to ignore it. Right? Maybe they could continue with the teasing, at least until Cas was of age.

He grabbed a hold of the boy's hips, looking over his shoulder and out the window to make sure no one was in clear view, but he wasn't expecting Cas to push against him.

"Cas." Dean's tone was warning and hushed, as if he expected one of the other boys to walk in at any moment.

"Mmm, Dean," Cas let out and pushed a little closer. Cas nuzzled his nose against Dean's jaw, his forearms pressed to Dean's muscled chest. "What about Sam and Kevin?"

Cas had to admit he was scared of being found out. It would mean no more closeness with Dean. But the teen couldn't help leaning into his lover anyway, disregarding the open plan of the house and open windows.

Dean sighed heavily at Cas's words; the boy was right and that made the situation slightly more real. It was less than eight hours since he last touched Castiel, and he was already disregarding his own rules. It was going to be a lot harder than he thought. He needed more self-control.

"You're right," he whispered, but didn't attempt to move away, though he didn't tighten his grip or do anything further. Finally he pulled away. "So, lunch?"

Cas frowned at the loss of the warmth surrounding him, but sighed in resignation as he realized it was best…for now.

"Lunch," Cas murmured. "Kevin wanted me to try out grilling some chicken. Is that okay?"

He moved toward where the pans were kept, bustling around his kitchen. He was so happy and at home in the room. It had quickly become his favourite of the house, second only to Dean's bedroom.

"Sounds good," Dean said, leaning back on the counter, letting Castiel do all the work. It was fun to watch the teen move so comfortably in his home, like he was allowed to watch without it being suspicious. He was 'supervising.' It had been about three weeks since Castiel had arrived here and already his attitude towards the house had drastically changed and so had their relationship.

"You look good bent over like that," he teased, almost regretting the words as they left his mouth, but the sight of teen's ass when he had bent over to retrieve a pan from below the sink was a tempting view. "Might have to get you like that soon."

_Shit! Shit! Shit! That was wrong! That was so fucking wrong. _Dean mentally slapped himself and focused on keeping his features schooled.

Cas laughed and wiggled his hips, teasing Dean in return. "Might have to get rid of everyone first, sir," he said coyly as he straightened up, batting his lashes and winking.

Dean shouldn't have felt a surge of pleasure at the idea of Castiel calling him 'sir.' It just added to the already growing list of things he wanted to do with Cas that would no doubt put him in jail.

Castiel knew exactly the effect he was having on Dean, and he was very well aware what he was doing to the man, if the way he was standing was evidence at all.

He went over to the fridge and pulled out the chicken breasts Kevin had thawed earlier. "Could you help me cut this please, Dean?" he asked, suddenly on task.

"I know what you are doing, Cas," he grumbled when Cas turned and looked at him so innocently, but he walked over to Cas anyway. He grabbed his half of the chicken Castiel handed to him and moved to another counter but not before placing a harsh slap to the teen's backside.

_Fuck, why was it so hard? _Either it was too much fun messing with Castiel or they were both aware of the attraction that was almost impossible to avoid.

"You're going to regret that," Dean growled tauntingly, smirking when he saw the struggle Castiel was fighting.

Cas groaned and braced himself on the edge of the counter, taking a moment to quell the pleasure roaring through his veins from such a simple gesture. It was the promise in Dean's words that really got Cas going.

Dean smirked and gave another slap and walked over to the counter opposite to the teen, pulling out a knife from the drawer and began his assigned task. Get away from the kid is what he was trying to really do.

Castiel chopped the chicken quickly, trying to ignore the sight of Dean, his muscular arms tensing as he wrestled with a particularly difficult piece of chicken. Cas averted his eyes, focusing on the pan he placed on the stove so he didn't burn the kitchen down.

Both Dean and Castiel were quiet throughout their task, both struggling to not take little glances at each other. They were alone, which Dean knew was dangerous, but rare. In the time to come he'd be forced to pair Castiel up with the other boys so he wouldn't draw suspicion.

"Dean?" Sam called from the front entrance, his voice cutting through the silence.

"In here, Sammy," Dean called, but didn't look away from his chicken slices.

"I've been looking all over for you," Sam complained, walking into the kitchen. "Hey, Cas." Sam caught sight of the teen and nodded towards him.

"Listen, Dean, I-" Sam paused, staring at Dean questioningly. "Are you making lunch? You never make lunch."

Dean stiffened. Damn it, he was right. "Can it, bitch. I do so," Dean argued, ignoring the fact that he sounded petulant.

"Jerk," Sam rebuked, rolling his eyes. "Not unless it's burgers or pizza; this is chicken."

Dean was slowly getting pissed by his brother's interrogation. "What did you want, Sam?" Dean hoped he could steer his brother away from his questioning and get him back on his original tangent.

Cas smiled back, genuine and wide, happy that the nickname had caught on so fast. He listened to the brothers bicker, giggling internally at their fond irritation.

Sam just rolled his eyes and looked to Cas. He just smiled at the teen and looked back to his brother. "Some of the boys wanted to come with me to town, and I was just letting you know you'd be put on supervision duty. Kevin's here, but you know how he can't handle more than one." Sam chuckled at the memory of Kevin struggling with seven teenagers that day he and Dean had to make a run to the grocery store. "Do you think you can handle that?"

Dean sighed as if he was insulted, but kept his thoughts too himself. "Yeah, Sammy," Dean said mockingly, putting the knife down and fully turning to his brother. "I can handle that."

"We're leaving after lunch," Sam replied after a long pause. "And we'll be back by dinner."

"Yeah, sure," Dean said, turning around and returning to cutting the chicken. "Good luck." Sam's final words weren't directed at Dean.

Cas and Dean worked quietly from then until it was time to eat. Cas asked for some ingredients and Dean provided, but not much was said.

Lunch was quiet as well. Everyone had been working hard all morning, so the boys were tired. They usually shoveled their food down their gullets, but today they sat and picked at their food, pondering it before eating. It made Cas frown, but he was reassured on a number of occasions that his chicken was superb. Cas blushed and turned his face down every time, never forgetting to add in, "Dean helped," quietly.

After lunch, when most of the boys had left with Sam and it was just Cas, Dean, Kevin and two other boys in the house, Cas washed up before heading up to his room to read. Luke and Benny had both left with Sam, so he had some time to himself to catch up on a few chapters.

Things were tense between the brothers and that seemed to have transitioned over to the boys, who had remained mostly quiet throughout lunch. Castiel was supposed to clean the dishes, but as soon as Sam and most of the boys had left, Dean dismissed Cas, offering to do the dishes himself.

Once the dishes were done, Dean wandered upstairs. Kevin had insisted that he could handle the boys on his own and told Dean just to relax. He contemplated knocking on Cas' door, but thought better of it.

Cas' book was boring. He couldn't get himself to focus on more than one or two sentences at a time which made it difficult to enjoy.

By the time he decided to have an afternoon nap, he was frustrated and lonely, and didn't want to move. For fifteen minutes, he tossed and turned, trying to get comfy. But no matter how exhausted from last night he was, he couldn't manage to pass out.

So what if he just visited Dean? He knew it was probably a bad idea. The man had seemed slightly conflicted all morning, but he couldn't stop thinking about Dean. Their teasing before lunch didn't make it any easier. Of course he hadn't seen the slight regret flash across Dean's face once the words had left his mouth.

With a sigh of resignation, Cas slipped out of his own bed and headed down the hall to Dean's room. Steeling himself, he breathed in, knocked four times on the wood, and breathed out.

Dean was lying on his bed, just staring up at his ceiling, zoned out. The four rapid knocks on his door pulled him from his daze. He looked to his clock, but saw it had only been a little over an hour since lunch so it couldn't have been Sam already—besides, he wouldn't have knocked if it was him. There was really only one other person who could be knocking at his door, and he was hesitant to answer it.

_You could always turn him away_, he told himself, but he knew seeing Cas at his door would not result in just a simple 'hi.' Reluctantly, he pushed up off the bed and shuffled over to his door.

Cas bit his lip as he waited at the door. He nearly ran off when the door opened, and Dean barked out his harsh greeting. It put something in his stomach he wasn't quite happy with.

"What, Cas?" Dean asked, as he pulled open the door to see the teen standing out in the hall.

"Oh," he said, taken aback. "Um, nothing. I just wanted to...ugh, I don't know. I'll just go." Cas turned to leave, rubbing the back of his neck as he trudged down the hall again. This was stupid. It was broad daylight. What was he thinking?

Dean closed his eyes and sighed heavily when Cas replied. He didn't mean to snap, he was just stressed from earlier. He ran a hand over his face, knowing his was going to regret this decision if it got out of hand, but he wanted to do it anyway.

"Cas, wait," Dean called out, feeling a little guilty for being short with the boy. He knew they had to be careful, but talking was harmless... right?

Cas smiled in thanks at Dean's tone.

"Um, well," he started. "I just wanted to thank you, I guess." It was only half a lie. He was grateful, but that wasn't the only reason he was here. "You've all been so nice to me, even the other boys. And I don't know how to show my gratitude for taking me in." The teen blushed, glancing down at his feet and rubbing his forearms. "I've never had much of a family, and I guess... I guess now I have." He chuckled sadly. He wasn't sure where the confession came from, but it was sincere.

Dean stood staring at Cas, stunned. He seemed to be finally opening up, and it sent warmth through him that it had been he whom Castiel confided in first.

He didn't say anything for a few moments, just staring at the teen in front of him, smiling proudly. It had only been three weeks since Cas first stepped out of that cop car, and he already noticed a change in the boy.

"Hey," Dean said, reaching an arm out and grabbed Castiel's shoulder, halting the boy. "I'm glad, Cas. I'm glad we're your family." He didn't mean to sound too presumptuous and assume they had replaced his family; but since their first night together, he was almost certain that he'd find some way for Castiel to stay with them... even after his time here.

Cas surged forward into Dean's personal space, wrapping his arms around the man's middle and pressing his face to his chest. "Thank you, Dean," he whispered, his voice muffled against the fabric.

Dean stumbled back into the door frame by the sudden weight. He wrapped his arms around the boy's shoulders, cupping the back of his head with his right hand, tangling his fingers through the dark, thick hair. He placed a soft kiss to the top of Castiel's head and buried his face in the teen's hair.

"I'm here for you, Cas," he whispered, hoping silently that they could stay like this longer and not have to worry about being caught. He would never admit it to Cas, but he was worried; in his life he was never lucky, never allowed to stay happy for long. He didn't want to fuck anything up.

Cas breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of Dean before pulling back. He disentangled himself from Dean and nodded, slightly embarrassed by his outpouring of emotions. "I'm going to, um, sweep the kitchen, or something," he managed. He nodded again and turned away, taking in shaking breaths.

Dean wanted to call out to him, to ask him to come back, but the sound of Kevin and Garth entering the house stopped him. He just nodded his head, though Castiel had his back turned to him.

As soon as Castiel disappeared down the stairs, Dean slipped back into his room. He hadn't noticed, not until his recent encounter with Cas, but the room felt different—emptier. In all the five years he's been here, he'd never once shared his bed with anyone. Sure there were his infamous one-night stands, but he never brought them back here. The fact that he changed that with Castiel mocked him.

On his way to the kitchen, Castiel greeted Kevin and Garth, who each handed him a bag of groceries. Kevin asked him to start preparing a marinade for the steaks for tonight, and he'd help him in a minute. Mixing herbs, sauces and stock together, Castiel pondered his connection with Dean. The two had kept their... whatever it was under wraps well enough until now, but Cas couldn't help the feeling it might not last. Sure, they were careful, but how careful is not careful enough? And Dean seemed almost…distant, unlike last night.

Dean stayed in his room for another couple of hours, doing absolutely nothing but staring blankly at his ceiling. It was about quarter to five when he made his appearance in the kitchen. Garth and Samandriel—Alfie as the kid had asked to be called on his first day—were in the living room playing a video game, and Kevin, well, he didn't know where that guy got off to.

He walked down the short hall and into the kitchen, a little interested by the sight before him. Castiel had his back to him, cutting up what looked like potatoes.

"Hey, Cas," he greeted, letting the boy know of his presence. He leaned casually against the door frame, arms folded across his chest.

Castiel turned around when he heard Dean's voice from behind him. He looked over his shoulder, greeting the man with a smile but continuing to cut, which was exactly how Castiel sliced the back of his hand open and bled all over a tray of various potatoes and the counter. His eyes widened, not so much in pain, but in shock. He'd honestly done worse to himself with a knife, but the surprise of this incident had him shocked still, hand pissing blood, opposite fingers still grasping the knife, knees trembling slightly.

"Dean," he whispered hoarsely, his face paling. A string of slurred words and panic escaped his mouth.

Dean noticed a change almost instantly in Castiel's posture; the boy was shaking. "Cas?" Dean walked over to the teen when he called out for him, "Is everything all right?"

He walked over to Cas and nearly blanched when he saw blood smeared over the vegetables and a steady stream of the crimson liquid running down Cas' hand and onto the counter.

"Shit," he cursed, reaching over and grabbing a cloth lying next to the sink. He wrapped it tightly around the bleeding hand, but not too tight to cause it to sting.

Cas hissed at the feeling of cloth over his wound, breaking his stillness by bringing his other hand up to clutch at Dean's shirt. "Dean," he said, voice rushed, high and panicky. "I can't... I used to—I need-" Cas' voice was breaking as he descended into his panic attack. Between gasping breaths he tried to tell Dean he couldn't handle this, that he's remembering how his old habit used to feel, and that he needed to get help.

Dean saw Castiel starting to panic. He was used to boys freaking out or thinking it was cool they were cut; Cas' reaction was something entirely different. He held the cloth closed for Cas, since the teen refused to let go of his shirt.

"Shh, Cas, it's okay," Dean soothed, running his free hand against the boy's hair. He was trying his best to calm Castiel, but the boy didn't seem to be listening.

"This is going to need stitches." Dean's voice was calm and gentle. He moved his hand down Castiel's face, cupping his cheek and bringing his face up. "You're going to be fine. Do you know where Kevin is?" Suddenly, Sam's absence had now caused a problem.

Castiel shook his head, only registering the question because Dean was grounding him. At that moment, as if by fate, Kevin walked through the door.

"Hey, guys, sorry I wa—holy crap!" Kevin dropped the bag of groceries he was holding—he must've left it in the car earlier and gone to get it. Cas only clutched at Dean tighter.

"He cut himself," Dean said calmly, though he was struggling to hold his anger in. It wasn't Kevin's fault, but Dean couldn't help but feel a little hostility towards him. "What the hell were you doing that you couldn't supervise? We all agreed if we let them use anything like tools or knives, one of us needs to be there." Dean's voice shook, but his tone was even.

"Sorry," Kevin mumbled and Dean felt a pang of guilt spread through him. He just nodded and looked to Castiel who was struggling to hold himself up on his shaky legs.

"I'm taking Cas to the hospital. Let Sammy know where we are, and you finish dinner." Dean nodded towards the bloody potatoes and started leading Castiel out of the kitchen. The teen still kept his grip on his shirt, though due to the circumstances, Dean doubted Kevin would question their obvious closeness.

Dean led Cas out to the Impala, keeping gentle pressure on the boy's wound. He was placed carefully in the passenger seat and Dean buckled his belt for him. Before he knew it, they were racing along the highway, not paying much attention to the speed limit. Colours blurred Cas' vision, and he barely had time to tell Dean he must've lost a lot of blood before he passed out.

Dean knew he should be driving more cautiously, but Castiel looked about one step from losing it. He kept a hand on Castiel's knee, rubbing soothing circles. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but Castiel kept pulling his attention away. The boy was now pale white and the cloth was now quickly turning red.

"Stay with me. It's okay. Everything is fine," he mumbled. He saw movement out of his eye and glanced in time to see Castiel slump over. "Shit," he cursed and turned onto the main road.

He pulled up to the hospital, carefully parking the Impala close to the E.R. He unbuckled Cas, carrying him carefully into the building.

He rushed over to the desk. As soon as the receptionist saw Dean and Castiel, a nurse came over, taking Castiel from his arms. "Follow me, sir. We'll need his information."

Cas came to in an unfamiliar room. The ceiling was a faded yellow and the birds sounded robotic. No, wait, that was the sound of machines beeping. It was then he realized he was in a hospital bed. He wasn't hooked up to anything except a blood pressure pump so he supposed it was other patients' machines that were making the noise.

He tried to sit up, and a searing hot surge went through his left hand. He managed to hoist himself up with his right hand before peering at the white layer of bandages covering his left hand. He glanced around the room, shared with seven other patients with the curtains drawn between each bed.

His eyes took in the room, landing on a hunched over figure next to his bed, head bowed and hands in his hair.

"Dean," Cas croaked out. How long was he unconscious?

Dean's head snapped up instantly when he heard a hoarse voice call his name. "Cas," he whispered, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "How are you feeling?" He was relieved to finally see those blue eyes meet his.

The doctor had stitched up his hand, but since Castiel hadn't come to yet, they set him in a bed until they knew he was fine and wouldn't need further treatment.

He tried to speak again, but had to clear his throat before getting out, "I'm fine. Tired, maybe. And my hand hurts." He placed the bandaged hand over Dean's on his arm, reassuring him with a small smile. Cas leaned over and kissed Dean's cheek, because he could, because no one was around to ask questions. He felt Dean's hand twitch on his arm, trying not to grip him too tight. Cas chuckled. "I'm not going to break, silly."

Dean sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. "No," he agreed, "but you _are_ in pain." He held up Cas' bandaged hand and placed a kiss to the gauze.

Having seen Cas in so much pain and panic, Dean momentarily forgot his silent promise to himself…to Cas.

"Sammy called," Dean said after a few moments of silence, "asked how you are doing." He looked into the blue eyes and smiled softly. "I guess I should go get a nurse and inform them you're awake."

"There are buttons here for a reason, Dean. Please don't leave me alone," Cas pleaded, blue orbs watering from his recent unconsciousness and the added stress of the afternoon's incident. And Dean now being warm and caring and cautious. It was all too much. The first sob escaped unchecked, more of a hiccup than an expression of his emotions. He brought his bandaged hand up to swipe at a tear that had escaped the confines of his eyelid.

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm crying," Cas choked out. "I'm so sorry, Dean."

Dean was midway out of his chair when Cas pleaded for him to stay, but what he wasn't expecting was for Castiel to start crying.

"Hey," he soothed, sitting back down. "It's fine, I'll stay. You're all right, Cas." Dean chuckled lightly, wiping a tear from the boy's cheek. "Let's let the nurse know you are awake so we can get out of here. How about that?" Dean smiled when Castiel nodded and he reached over and pressed the red button.

The ride back to the house was quiet, the only sounds being the roar of the engine, Dean humming along to a softly played song on the radio, and Castiel snoring gently while he napped, exhausted from the afternoon. Cas was shaken awake by Dean when they arrived back, and he tentatively got out of the car.

Before they reached the house, Cas brushed his good fingers over the back of Dean's hand, shooting him a smile and a nod in thanks. When they walked into the living room, this was an ordeal all of its own. The boys were curious, and the men were trying to keep their questions to a minimum. Cas endured a fair amount of questioning from everyone before he claimed he was tired and headed upstairs to bed.

"How's he doing?" Sam asked, following his brother into the kitchen. Sam had been one of the quiet ones when Castiel walked in, giving the boy his wanted space. Also he figured Dean would be better to inform him than a seventeen-year-old boy drugged up on painkillers.

"He's fine," Dean replied, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge. He really could go for a beer, but they only drank when the boys had gone or they were sleeping, and it _was_ only seven at night. "He slept on the way here and was asleep for about three hours at the hospital." Dean had called Sam, asking for Castiel's information that the agency provided for them. He had informed Sam up until the doctors just finished stitching up Castiel's hand.

"Hmmm," Sam replied, nodding his head and crossing his arms. He has already yelled at his brother, blaming him for not watching over Castiel while cooking, and Dean defensively argued that Kevin had been left in charge since he was up in his room the whole time. Sam seemed to have calmed down and wasn't berating Dean anymore. "I guess it's just important that he is okay." Dean knew that was his apology. Both of them were horrible at saying the simple phrase "I'm sorry" and had started apologizing in their own way.

Cas struggled getting back to sleep. The painkillers the nurse had given him were wearing off, and there was a dull throb in his hand. After a few hours of tossing and turning, the painkillers had finally worn off and his hand was causing him a lot of pain.

It was eleven, so all the boys had gone to bed now. He trudged down to the kitchen as quietly as possible and looked for the pills the nurse had sent them on their way with. When he couldn't find them, he cursed. They weren't anywhere; not in the drawers, or the pantry or any cupboards. Tears of frustration pricked his eyes, and he cursed again at being so emotional. He put it down to being tired and in pain. He stood for a couple of minutes in the kitchen, weighing how bad the pain was with whether or not he should find Dean and ask if he knew where they were. With a growl of frustration, he headed back up the stairs, this time turning toward Dean's room.

He knocked on the door twice, trying to be quiet but needing Dean to hear him. He had no hesitation; the pain was too much for him to do that.

Dean had just pulled an old t-shirt over his head, getting ready for bed, when two knocks rang through the room. He had a sneaking suspicion as to who it was and his stomach twisted in a knot. What did he want? Dean walked over to the door and slowly pulled it open, revealing a tired looking Cas.

"Are you all right?" was the first thing out of Dean's mouth, as he pulled the door fully open. He had not seen the boy since they got home earlier that night and right now, he looked a little worse for wear. He studied Castiel's face and notice his eyes were shining, as if he had been crying.

"I can't find my painkillers," Castiel huffed in frustration. "I was wondering if you still had them."

Castiel looked down at his feet, trying hard not to curl his arms around Dean and tell him to fuck him. He'd been thinking about it all day, hoping to fulfill his fantasy tonight, but had been cockblocked by his own stupid hand.

It took a moment for Castiel's words to register in Dean's brain, too lost in the depth of Castiel's eyes. God he wanted to kiss him. He had been fighting the urge since Castiel woke up in the hospital. He had to be there for him, like a lover should.

"Umm, oh, yeah," Dean replied dumbly, rubbing a hand over his face. "I still have your pills." Dean remembered putting them in his pocket after they got them, but completely forgot to give them to the teen before he went to bed.

"Come in." He moved out of the way for Castiel to walk in and closed the door after the he took the offer. He told himself that it was so they didn't wake anyone up by talking in the hall, but Dean's subconscious knew better.

Castiel ducked into the room, still staring at the floor as if it would give him the answer to life.

"Dean, I—" Cas started, but cut himself off. He didn't even know what to say. He wanted to apologize, but he didn't know what for. _Everything_, he told himself. And wasn't that a kick to the gut.

Dean walked over to his discarded shirt from earlier, which was laying on the floor. He picked it up and fished the small, clear bottle of white pills from the front pocket.

"I'm assuming you're looking to take one," Dean said, holding out the bottle towards Castiel. The boy just stood, staring at the small bottle. Dean's brows furrowed and he stepped closer to the teen.

"Are you all right?" he repeated his question from earlier, which Castiel had yet to answer. The boy was silent, and it was worrying the man. He dropped his hand with the pills to his side and stepped closer to the boy, so they were only a couple of inches apart. He tentatively took Castiel's uninjured hand with his free hand and laced their fingers together. He tugging on Castiel's hand, bringing the teen closer, so they were chest to chest.

Cas let Dean pull him close, and he curled his other arm around the man's middle, still holding onto his hand. He grabbed Dean's shirt with two fingers, the only ones that didn't hurt when he moved them, and pressed his face into the man's chest before he sighed in frustration. He held his breath, and then let it out, together with it a shaking sob. He shook his head against Dean's chest. A few frustrated tears fell from Castiel's eyes and onto Dean's shirt. _I'm not okay._

He pushed the thought outward, hoping Dean could feel it. When he realized how stupid that was, he pulled back a little, and looked up into worried green eyes.

"I'm n-not okay," he uttered. If he spoke any louder than a whisper, he would turn into a bawling mess. "I don't even know wh-what's wrong - nngh."

"Cas," Dean whispered, sympathy laced in his voice. He wrapped his arm, still holding the bottle, around Castiel, pulling the boy back to him. "It's okay; you can let it out," Dean reassured. He didn't want Castiel to feel like he had to keep his emotions hidden, that he wasn't allowed to express how he really felt.

He placed a soft kiss to the top of Castiel's head, whispering soothing words into his hair, while his thumb rubbed gentle circles over the hand he was still holding.

Steady tears began to fall down Castiel's face. He pulled his hand from Dean's and wrapped that around Dean as well, clutching to him as if his life depended on it. He cried for everything; his past, his present, his indiscernible future. He cried into Dean's shirt and held tight, only standing because Dean was there.

Dean was struggling; he didn't know what to do about the crying teen. Sure, this hasn't been the first time a new boy had cried, but it was always Sam who comforted them; Sam who could empathize with them. So Dean did what he thought what was best and led Castiel over to his bed.

He gently lowered the crying teen, who was shaking and probably would not be standing if it weren't for Dean's arms wrapped around him. He sat on the edge next to Cas. He tried to slide away from him to give Cas some space, but Cas just clung to his shirt, so Dean kept his one arm wrapped around his shoulder. He placed the bottle of pills on his side table, freeing his other hand, which he used to gently cup the side of Castiel's head, holding it to his chest.

Dean didn't say anything, nor did he attempt to get Castiel to say anything. They just sat silently, Dean's arms wrapped around Cas, and Cas clung desperately to the man.

Once Castiel's crying had subsided, he pulled back, wiping at his eyes. The movement sent a surge of pain through his hand and he cradled it against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he said, glancing up at Dean. "You probably think I'm stupid." He said it with a chuckle, but it didn't make him feel any less small.

Dean just shrugged, moving his hand from the back of Castiel's head to cup his cheek. "You had a rough day," he responded quietly, "it's understandable to be emotional and exhausted." He gave Castiel an encouraging smile, but it was partially covered by the shadows given off by the low light of the table lamp. "I'm not going to think of you as stupid, Cas, just for crying."

Cas saw the gleam of Dean's teeth in the dim light, which also cast flattering shadows across the man's face. He couldn't help but feel his dick stir in his jeans – he blamed his hormones and the fact that Dean was being so accommodating.

"You can always come to me, Cas," Dean spoke, looking wistfully into the teen's eyes. "This isn't just a onetime deal—I want to be there for you. I want to make sure you are alright."

There was a shimmer in Castiel's eyes from the golden glow, luring him forward. For a moment, Dean forgot about everything around him but Cas. He only saw the boy sitting on his bed, staring intently at him, his eyes not moving from his face. Dean leaned forward, still cupping Castiel's cheek, and pressed his lips to the teen's, forgetting everything he promised himself that morning.

Cas melted, sealed himself to Dean by his lips. He pushed his right hand up to Dean's chest and could feel the thump, thump, thump of his heart. Cas' lips were trembling. He wasn't sure how, but this kiss was filled with more emotion than any they had shared before.

Dean moved his hand from Castiel's cheek to his chest. He covered Castiel's hand with his, keeping the teen's hand in place. The kiss quickly grew heated; Dean felt his dick twitch in his pajama pants. He slowly pushed Castiel back, being careful not to bump his injured hand.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Dean groaned, pulling his lips away for a moment to breathe. "You're hurt. You should be resting." It was also too risky. They already agreed this couldn't happen here again.

Cas moaned into the kiss.

"Mmm, we shouldn't," Castiel agreed, but swept his tongue over Dean's lips and gained access almost instantly.

Dean growled in the back of his throat, shifting himself so he was hovering over Castiel. Cas let himself be pushed back onto the bed, still clutching at Dean's t-shirt with his good hand. "We really shouldn't."

Dean could feel Castiel's arousal, which only fueled his. He dropped his hips, grinding slowly against Castiel. They really shouldn't be doing this again, but Dean couldn't bring himself to stop.

"Dean," Castiel whispered, pulling back from the kiss with a loud smack. "Dean, can I—want you. I need this." His voice trembled, nervous about what he was about to ask of Dean, not sure that he would agree.

Dean pulled back, staring down at the boy. There was a little uncertainty in the boy's eyes as he looked up at him. But he was curious as to what Castiel wanted to try. He really should say no and send the teen back to his room. It was too risky; Sam was in the next room, the other boys not too far, but Dean didn't do any of that, he just nodded.

"You don't have to fuck me…just touch me. Please." Cas stared up at Dean pleadingly. "I need to feel you."

Dean cupped Castiel's cheek, ghosting his lips over the boy's. "I want to, but are you sure you're okay?" Despite Castiel reassurance, Dean really didn't want to push Cas, even if it was just a hand job.

Cas stared up at Dean with pleading eyes. "Please, Dean." He searched for something, an explanation.

Dean smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to Castiel's lips. He pulled the teen up and grabbed the hem of his shirt. He carefully pulled it over the Cas' head, being extra careful with his bandaged hand.

He ran a hand down Castiel's chest, tracing light patterns into the waistband of his pajama pants. He crawled back, slowly lowering himself to be at eye level with his hips. He placed light kisses on the protruding hipbones, while hooking his fingers in the waistband and beginning to pull them down, with a little help from Cas.

Once Castiel's shirt was off, the boy thumped his back on the pillow. Dean's gaze held him to the bed, struck by the dedication of his stare.

Dean yanked the cotton pants past Castiel's hips and down his legs, carelessly tossing them behind him, forgotten in an instant. His eyes raked over the naked body before him. The soft glow of the room created a halo of light along his body, illuminating the pale skin and the noticeable marks from the night before.

"God, you're beautiful," Dean murmured. His eyes traveling from his erect member and up to the shimmering pool of blue.

Dean didn't look away and Cas gazed back, a tentative smirk pulling at his lips. He rolled his hips, grinding up into Dean and moaning impatiently.

"Careful. We'll get there," Dean whispered, placing both hands on the teen's hips, holding them down to the bed. He slowly kissed up Castiel's body, occasionally trailing his tongue along the boy's skin.

Suddenly flashes of last night filled his mind. He remembered why he did it; why he wanted Cas. The promise to himself was futile in that moment. Seeing Cas beneath him made him forget all his struggles. This felt right.

Cas shivered at the feel of Dean's tongue swiping over his goose bumped flesh. He lifted his arms, draping them around the older man's neck.

Dean straddled Castiel's waist again, moving his hands onto the pillows, next to Castiel's head. He slowly ground down his clothed member against Castiel's exposed cock.

As Dean rolled his hips down, Cas could feel thick hot shaft against thick hot shaft. He moaned, and strained his neck to kiss Dean.

"Just like last time," he whispered kissing down Castiel's check. "No noise. We can't alert Sam." They were lucky last night Sam had stayed asleep. Dean'd rather not push his luck.

Cas whined and crashed their lips together, immediately moving his hand down to Dean's crotch. He was growing hard, leaking as the anticipation built up.

"Dean," he huffed impatiently when Dean didn't make a move past kissing his neck. "Please, touch me."

He smirked against the warm flesh of Castiel neck. He knew the boy was frustrated. He was a teenage boy, controlled by his hormones.

Instead of responding, Dean moved down Cas' body, kissing and licking a trail down Cas' awaiting cock.

Dean's face now was level with the boy's flushed cock. The wet tip glistened under the low light and Dean's mouth salivated. Ever so slowly, Dean dragged his tongue from the base to the tip, lapping up the pre-come.

Dean's tongue striped Cas' cock and Cas shuddered out a breath. He tried so hard to keep quiet for Dean.

Dean began a lazy assault to Cas' cock, torturing the boy by slowly licking up and down the length, occasionally sucking the tip. He enjoyed the feel of Castiel shuddering under his touch and his struggle to stay quiet. He made a mental note to himself to get Cas alone so he could hear Castiel scream his name without any reserve.

Cas trapped a broken whine in his throat, replacing it with a succession of little huffs. He wanted more. He did need this being treated delicately shit Dean was handing him, but on the other hand, Dean was so gentle a careful that Cas was forced to remember he never had this kind of care.

Without warning, Dean swallowed Castiel down, until the head hit the back of his throat. The man relaxed his throat and started bobbing.

He dragged his mouth up lazily, guiding his tongue along the underside, until only the tip was between his lips. Dean then would swallow Castiel again, quickly, tightening his lips at the base to create a suction. He placed his palms gently, but firmly on Castiel's thighs, keeping the boy from bucking.

Castiel was dead; this was Heaven. Cas couldn't help himself; he let out a low moan, trying not to push his hips up and fuck Dean's throat. Dean was in control, not Cas. He knew they had to take this slow or he would have a _hard _time controlling this cries.

"Dean," he gasped as the tip of his cock hit the back of the man's throat. His good hand gripped at Dean's hair while his wrapped hand laid on the mattress, carefully pulling at the sheets.

Dean was encouraged by the boy's whimpers and gasps. He continued to slowly suck Cas off, enjoying the intense pleasure he knew he was bringing Cas.

He pulled back almost completely, swirling his tongue around the head, pressing his tongue to the slit. He continued for a few moments, listening to Cas' sighs. He felt the boy relax and that's when he moved up, swallowing Castiel again, smiling inwardly when he felt Castiel's hips jump.

Castiel was a panting, sighing mess in no time. He breathlessly whispered Dean's name out and gasped in heady breaths, dizzying himself. No matter how much air he sucked in, it wasn't enough.

Dean's hands and mouth were searing hot, almost unbearably so. But Cas would burn for Dean gladly.

"You're being so good," Dean cooed teasingly, releasing Castiel's cock and placing a tentative kiss to the teen's lips. He ran a hand through his dark, sweaty hair. "Staying really quiet," he mumbled.

Dean pulled back and stood up. He stripped, dropping his pants and shirt carelessly to the floor. He glanced down at Cas, watching the rise and fall of his flushed chest. The boy's blue eyes bore into his when they met.

Dean crawled back onto the bed, hovering over the boy. Their erections rubbed together, creating some much need friction for Dean. "God, Cas," he whispered, burying his face into the teen's shoulder. His hand went to Cas' hips, hovering near their cocks.

Castiel pushed Dean's hand way gently and Dean allowed it, only because it was Cas' good hand. Castiel didn't curl his hand around the base; instead just lightly stroked his fingers up and down the length.

Dean hissed and closed his eyes. He let Cas tease him; have his fun. The boy's bandaged hand was placed on Dean's back, just lying there.

Dean's restraint was slowly slipping, but he was determined to withhold and let Cas enjoy himself a bit more. He already teased Cas, the boy deserved something in return.

He latched his mouth over a perky nipple, biting down lightly. He wanted to fuck Cas, like he was begging him to do, but having Castiel at his mercy was too tempting to rush through; he wanted to drag it out.

He soon switched nipples, paying as much attention to the other. The little gasps that escaped from Castiel's lips spurred Dean further. Castiel began to groan out Dean's name, struggling to remain quiet, but somehow succeeding.

The sharp suction of Dean's lips on Cas' skin sent pangs of lust to the teen's cock, twitching against his stomach. His pre-come swiped through the wispy curls of hair below his navel, and Cas' moans grew long and wanton.

Dean thrust his hips up, causing their cocks to rub against each other. Cas let out a low whine.

"Dean," the boy pleaded. "Dean, I need it." The older man's lips were sealed to the juncture of his jaw and he gulped at the closeness.

"Mmm," Dean hummed against the reddened skin and pulled away. As much as he was enjoying teasing Cas, he was now uncomfortably hard and needed relief.

He moved against Cas again, pulling another sharp hiss from Castiel. His nails were digging in his back as he rocked against the older man. The movements were to slow for Castiel. He was frustrated, but as long as he was injured, Dean was not increasing his pace.

Dean moved his hand down to Cas' hips, using the as leverage as he rutted against Castiel. Their cocks slotted together, creating a delicious friction each time they rubbed together.

Castiel wouldn't last long, Dean could tell. The boy was already so wound up for his previous teasing. He's surprised the boy didn't come at his moment. His nails scrapped at Dean's back, and breathy little moans tickled the man's ear.

Cas gasped, eyes fluttering shut and then snapping open again. He was close, but the slow rock of Dean's hips was not enough. The edge was there, but the slow pace was just keeping him teetering there.

"Look at me," Dean demanded when he saw Castiel shift his head slightly.

Dean's voice pulled Castiel's gaze back to the older man's eyes. Cas whimpered at the gleam in Dean's green orbs.

"Dean, so close," he murmured.

"I got you," Dean said, placing a hand on the bed next to Cas' head and the other moving down, taking both of them in his hand. His hand slid up and down in a firm grip, flushed skin rubbing against each other.

"Let go, Cas. So close." Dean felt the drop in his stomach and the familiar tightness. Cas was trying to push his hips up, but Dean held him down firmly.

Castiel was already a shivering mess, huffing moan-filled breaths into the space between them. "D-Dean, closer," Cas pleaded. "Need you here."

"I got you, Cas." Dean's thumb swept over Cas head, and the boy sighed. He was flushed and a light sheen of sweat began to form over his forehead. He was so wound up; Dean knew what he was doing and he was reveling in Cas' "torture".

Dean moved his hand fast, quickly jacking them off. Cas was pleading for more and Dean was too eager to care about the slow pace.

The teen threw his head back and gasped silently in pleasure. "Shit, Dean." Cas' breath was shallow now and a few drops of sweat rolled down his temple.

Dean felt the familiar coil in the pit of his stomach. They were both sweating, the light casting a glow off each of them. The pace was slow, but intense, something Dean had never felt with any of his previous relationships.

Cas stretched his neck up, planting quick kisses to Dean's jaw before gasping out almost silently, spurting stripes of white over Dean's hand and his own chest. The man's name was the last thing he sighed as pleasure coursed through him.

Dean came almost immediately, spilling himself over his hand, and Cas and his chest, sticking them together.

"Fuck," he groaned, voice muffled in Castiel's shoulder, his vision clouding and his arms shaking, struggling to hold him up.

Cas pulled on Dean's back, guiding the man down against his chest, which was easy since the man's arms practically gave out as soon as Cas' wrapped around him. The boy was pinned down by the weight of Dean's body, heaving against him like he'd run a marathon.

He stayed lying against the boy, panting harshly and trying in vain to regain control of his breath.

"Fuck," he gasped again, this time breathlessly. There was always something so intense about a slow and careful pace. As much as he loved to hear the harsh cries from Cas, he also loved the heavy sighs and breathless moans he just heard leave the kid's mouth.

Cas turned his head to kiss the side of Dean's, moaning quietly with each press of his lips.

Dean stayed slumped against Cas for a bit longer, trying to regain some strength. He almost felt bad for crushing the younger male, but Castiel hadn't voiced his objection yet.

After a couple of minutes he stood and went into the adjoining bathroom, getting a cloth and running it under warm water. He used the cloth to clean Cas and himself before drooping it to the floor (he'd deal with it later) and snuggled back up against Cas.

He took the injured hand, kissing the exposed part of his wrist.

"How are you?" Dean asked, caressing his arm.

Cas chuckled at the feeling of hot breaths on his wrist; maybe he was ticklish, but so what?

"I'm so good, Dean," he answered truthfully. "You were gentle. You didn't hurt me, so calm down." He smirked and pressed a lingering kiss to Dean's cheek and wrapped his now free arms around the man's neck.

Dean smirked and moved off of Castiel. He pulled the boy with him, letting him curl along his side. Dean wrapped an arm around his back, gently rubbing light circles against the sticky skin.

"You're perfect, Cas," Dean praised.

Cas frowned at that particular phrase. "I disagree," he mumbled, ducking his head under Dean's chin to kiss his neck.

"You underestimate yourself," Dean mumbled, disagreeing with Castiel's statement.

Cas' frown deepened against Dean's Adam's apple and he pushed back, leaning on an elbow over Dean. "I'm the poster-child of broken homes and drug-addiction, Dean," he said matter-of-factly. "My past is laden with hurt and anger and destruction. I am far from perfect." After a beat, he added, "You, however... you're like a different specimen altogether." He leaned closer to Dean's face, good hand trailing soft patterns over the man's chest and collarbone. "You're so soulful." He pressed a kiss to Dean's nose, "bright," his left cheek, "like the sun," his right cheek, "after rain," his lips. He lingered there briefly then pulled back. "You're beautiful," he whispered. "You're perfect."

Dean cradled Castiel's head, as the boy peppered kisses along his face. He was haunted by Cas' words and wanted to argue everything he had just said. Instead, he passionately sealed their lips together, pouring his burning feelings for Castiel into the boy's mouth.

They were interrupted by a sharp but quiet knock on the door.

"Dean?" Sam's voice came from the other side. Dean stilled, panic filled him; his brother was within ear reach of them. Had he heard anything they had said? Although they had been whispering, if Sam had been on the other side the whole time, there was no doubt that he had heard.

Cas managed to stifle a hum of content as knuckles rapped on the door. The boy's eyes flew wide, panic making him quiver.

He clutched to Dean, hiding his face in the man's chest and squeezing his eyes shut. He tried to calm himself, breathing in and out slowly. This was it. They were caught. This could never happen again.

Cas would most likely be kicked out and Dean would never be allowed to work with kids again. His breath quickened, but he tried to keep it quiet, obeying Dean to the letter.

Dean placed a finger to his lips, silently telling Cas to remain silent.

"What is it, Sammy?" Dean called out, trying to keep his voice calm as possible. He gently pushed Cas off his chest and sat up.

"I need to talk to you," was Sam's reply. Dean gritted his teeth to suppress a smart-ass remark.

"Ugh," Dean groaned, "not now, Sam; I'm tired."

"Come on, Dean," Sam complained. There was a soft thud on the door, which Dean suspected was Sam placing a hand against it. "You know I can't talk to you with the boys around."

Sam was right, most of the time both of them were busy with supervision, but right now Dean was not about to sympathize with his brother; not when he was going to get caught naked in bed with one of said boys.

"We'll talk tomorrow," Dean offered, trying to sound apologetic when really he just wanted to tell his brother to fuck off.

"Dean, please!"

He didn't know how he was going to get Sam to leave them alone; his brother could be persuasive when he wanted to be. He felt Castiel's bandaged hand brush against his ribs.

Castiel was silent the entire time, still close to him, but he didn't dare touch him. He could tell the boy was in a panic and was struggling to not make a movement to give away his presence.

"I'm tired," he repeated, refusing to sound whiny. "I've been at the hospital all afternoon. I just want to sleep."

Sam sighed heavily behind the door, and Dean grinned triumphantly. He had succeeded, but the grin didn't last long. "Fine, Dean. But we will talk tomorrow." Dean nodded in agreement, though he knew Sam couldn't see him.

"Good night, Dean," Sam said and Dean couldn't help but feel guilty by his brother's disappointed tone, but this time it had been too close.

"Good night, Sammy," Dean said and collapsed back on the bed when he heard Sam walk away and close the door to his room.

Cas let out a long, trembling breath and clenched his good fist, trying to will away the shakes. That was way too close. Cas was fairly sure the door had been left unlocked, too. Cas still didn't dare make a sound, in case Sam changed his mind and decided 'tomorrow' wasn't soon enough. He curled into a ball on his side beside Dean, shaking like it was nobody's business.

"That was too close," Dean whispered, worried that Sam may be listening. "We have to be careful; we can't be doing this in the spur of the moment." Dean was looking up at the ceiling so he didn't see Castiel shaking, but felt it.

"Cas." Dean propped himself up on his elbow. "It's all right," he tried to reassure. "We just need to be more careful." He took the boy's uninjured hand and laced their finger together, letting the boy know he was here with him and okay.

Cas smiled weakly up at Dean, bandaged hand curving itself gently over their interlaced fingers. "Yeah, okay," he whispered back. He sighed gently, removing himself from Dean and the bed, collecting his clothes and the pills he had come here for in the first place. "I'll let you talk to Sam tomorrow night," he whispered across the room, shuffling into his pajamas.

Dean watched as Castiel redressed. He wanted to protest, to ask him to stay, but he knew it was better this way. They had come too close to being caught and it would be riskier if he asked Cas to stay longer.

Once dressed, Castiel went to Dean, leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Good night, Dean."

"Good night, Cas," he responded, letting Cas kiss him quickly before he left the room.

Castiel left the room as quietly as possible, trying not to alert Sam to his presence. Once he was sure he was out of ear shot, he popped the cap of the bottle, took two pills and dry swallowed. He was far too used to taking pills to use water. The fact made him slightly sad at himself, but he decided not to dwell on it. He slipped back into his own room, where Benny and Luke were thankfully both snoring.

Castiel's bed was more comfortable after he'd taken painkillers and taken apart so thoroughly. He could still feel the feel Dean's come on his chest, and he smirked his way into sleep.

For once, his dreams weren't laden with the horrors of his past.

Dean's sleep was restless that night. After having such a perfect time, the rest of the night was disappointing. He shouldn't be putting Castiel through these kinds of risks. He was the adult; Castiel's guardian, he should not be taking advantage of their situation; as people would say if it was ever revealed.

Dean knew he shouldn't be doing it—God, did he know. But he couldn't bring himself to stop. He was too far invested in Castiel, and it scared him that they have such an intense connection, for it only being a few weeks.

"Fuck," he groaned, turning over and burying his head in his pillow. He was so screwed. Less than twenty-four hours and already he's had sex twice. If he wasn't careful he'd fall farther down this already dangerous path.


	5. Chapter 5

So sorry for the delay. I've been busy with college prep, and still am. The next couple of chapters may be delayed as well.

Thank you to my really good friend AndromedaeStarStom69 for looking over this chapter for us!

Warning: mild drug (marijuana) use

* * *

Dean woke up too early for his liking. He ate breakfast alone, wanting to avoid Sam until it was inevitable. He spent most of the morning outside working on the Impala. Even though she was already in near perfect condition, Dean decided to tinker with the engine, knowing Sam normally avoided him if he was working on the car. Thankfully, avoiding Sam also meant avoiding Cas. He hadn't seen the teen since earlier this morning before they were interrupted by Sam.

The thought of his brother almost exposing them made Dean cringe and tighten his hand on the knob he was fiddling with. He needed to get his emotions under control. He couldn't react visibly around Sam or he would know something was up.

After spending so many years together both of them could read each other so openly. It were times like these when he hated their connection.

* * *

Cas slept in the next morning. No one had bothered to get him up, so he clumped downstairs just before lunch.

"Can I help?" Cas asked, puttering over to the stove and poking at a sausage with a fork.

"No!" was Kevin's reply. "You're meant to be resting your hand. Now get out of my kitchen." The reprimand was affectionate, and Cas chuckled as he crossed the hall into the living room.

A couple of the boys and Sam were reading there, but the piano was free. He sat down and played a couple notes with his good hand, slowly because he needed his other hand to match the sounds.

Sam noticed Castiel walk in, but ignored him—Sam was getting too pissed at Dean. He knew his brother was avoiding him—that he only went to work of his car so he wouldn't bother him. All he wanted to talk to him about was that the sheriff had approached him in town the other day and asked about how Castiel was adjusting and was wondering if they were interested in taking on another 'runaway' as she had put it.

"Cas?" Sam spoke, drawing the boy's attention away from the piano. Sam would admit he enjoyed listening to it. No one had played on that thing in years—Dean wouldn't let them since it was their mother's. He wondered if Dean would allow Castiel to continue playing it. Then he remembered the day Cas had come to them. Cas had been sitting on the bench and suddenly he questioned if the boy had been playing it. It was an odd spot to sit just for a place to relax.

Cas jerked his hand away from the keys, placing his hand in his lap. He still wasn't sure if Sam was okay with him playing. "Sorry," he muttered, looking down into his lap.

Sam tilted his head in confusion, studying Cas. "Don't be," he smiled encouragingly, hoping to ease the boy's nerves. "It's nice to hear that old thing again. Dean never lets anyone play it." Sam chuckled, an irritated tone laced in his voice. He looked over to Cas again, the other boys too involved in the TV or their own books. "You play well."

"Thank you," he said quietly, looking up with a smile. "Seriously, though? He never lets anyone play?" He thought back to his first day, when he'd played in front of Dean. He didn't seem mad. Was Dean harbouring a crush on the boy even back then? Cas couldn't be sure.

"No," Sam said, shaking his head once. "We had a young boy here a few years ago, used to play piano. He asked to play it and Dean flat out refused. Ended up putting a lock on it later that week. I only just got him to take it off last year." Sam chuckled, a bit more humour in it this time. "You're the first one to play that since-" Sam cut himself off when he realized what he was about to share.

"Oh," was Castiel's stupid reply. He looked down at the piano keys again, lifting his bandaged hand and caressing the white and black keys reverently. He'd never owned a piano, but they used to teach it when Cas went to school. So he took it up. And his mother, who also used to play as a child, taught him at the community centre where it was free, so they didn't have to pay for lessons.

"Who taught you?" Sam was curious. Did he have those parents who sent him off somewhere, or the ones that took the time to be with him? Dean and he never had either of that. He was barely three and Dean never showed any interest in the instrument.

Cas cleared his throat. "My mother did, actually," he said slowly. Before she uhh...left. And then passed." He looked down at his hands splayed over the keys. His mother played beautifully. All Cas felt now was that he wasn't doing her justice.

Sam swallowed hard. He felt bad for making Castiel reveal that secret, but he understood—Dean and he had been there.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, though he knew it was cliché, but he did mean it. He offered Castiel a small smile.

"It's okay." He returned the smile. "It was many years ago, now. I've moved on." He pressed a few of the keys down, playing the opening to his mother's favourite song—Beethoven's _Symphony No. 5_.

"Well, I'm sure you're making her proud." Though under the circumstances that Cas was here, some would have argued with Sam's assumption, but the man was certain that the teen's actions were not a reflection of his upbringing, they were... survivalist.

Cas smiled in thanks at Sam, pink flushing his cheeks.

Kevin called for lunch and they all filed into the dining room. Dean wasn't there.

"Do you want to go tell Dean to get in here?" Sam asked Cas, just before the boy took his seat. "He'll be out there all day if someone doesn't interrupt him."

Sam walked to one of the head chairs and sat down as Kevin brought in a plate of sausages.

"Dean still pissed at you?" Kevin chuckled and set the plate down. "Sending poor Cas into the lion's den?" The other boys chuckled at the younger man's joke. They obviously understood the reference to Dean's sulking.

"Uhh sure," Cas muttered. He frowned at the boys' reactions, unsure why they found it funny. He walked out warily, contemplating on his way to Dean.

* * *

Dean was crouched down, rag in hand, polishing the Impala's side when he heard someone approach. He assumed it was Sam, trying to get him to finally talk to him. He didn't turn around, pretending to be engrossed in his job at the moment.

"Dean?" the man heard Cas call as he ventured over to the Impala. "It's time for lunch."

"Did Sam send you out here?" Dean asked, refraining from rolling his eyes. He didn't care what the answer was; either way, he was not going into that house while Sam was around. He was too pissed at his brother for almost catching him, even though he was technically at fault. He was also pissed at himself for letting his guard down and putting both Cas and himself at risk of exposure, but he wasn't going to admit that to anyone.

"Yeah, he did," Cas said warily. He edged closer to Dean, crouching slightly to catch his eyes. "Are you okay, Dean?"

Dean sighed, dropping his head and hand from the car. "I'm fine, Cas." Dean stared at the ground. "Go back inside."

Cas started to turn away, but returned his eyes to Dean once more.

"No," he said. "You're mad." He walked closer, standing over Dean in his crouched position. "Please, talk to me?" he asked in a softer voice, gently touching a hand to his hair.

"There's nothing to talk about, Cas." Dean lifted his head up and stared at the door, figuring it was better than to look at Castiel.

He was angry, and he knew sometimes he could lash out quite viciously, regardless if that person was involved or not. He had done it a few times here, always feeling guilty right after and he didn't want to do that to Cas. He didn't want to put the boy in that position. Also he was still trying to come to terms with exactly what he wanted from Cas. He couldn't keep leading the boy around, especially if he was going to have a panic attack every time he slept with him.

Cas frowned down at the man, upset that he didn't want to open up to him. The boy had told Dean things he'd never even tried to think about before, and he was just going to dismiss it? Of course, as soon as he thought it, he regretted it. Dean would talk when he was ready.

Castiel sighed. "Fine. I'll make sure they save you a plate of food." He said it moodily, and winced at how he sounded.

Dean clenched his eyes shut and let out a long and frustrated groan. Great, now he was feeling the guilt. He didn't understand why it was so easy for him to take out his anger on everyone but the person his irritation was directed for.

"Cas," Dean called out, "Wait." He didn't look away from the car, not moving from his earlier position, but he hoped Castiel hadn't gotten too far and would still hear him.

Cas stopped in the dirt, looking down at his feet. He didn't want Dean to reprimand him. He wanted to talk. All he wanted was to bond. He didn't think it would happen today, but against his better judgment, he turned back.

Dean heard Castiel stop, but didn't walk back. He sighed and slowly stood up. He turned around, seeing that Castiel was only a few steps away from the shed. He walked over to the work bench, placing the rag down and then gripped the edge of the table with his hands.

"I didn't mean to snap at you," he said more quietly, but he knew Castiel was listening. He looked down at the wooden table and kept his focus on a chip between his hands.

"That's not an apology," Cas said, acid in his tone as he stepped into the shed and folded his arms. "You said you didn't mean to, but that's not 'sorry'."

Dean groaned, of course Cas would be the one boy that didn't let him get by without actually saying the pointless word. Damn it, he was too much like Sam. He gritted his teeth, refraining from saying something to worsen the situation.

Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his head back, staring up at the wooden beams. Reluctantly, Dean said the words. "I'm sorry, Cas."

Cas raised his eyebrows. "You're kidding, right?" When he didn't get a response, he said, "Dean Winchester, you are going to apologize and mean it, or so help me, I'll leave you with your hand for a week."

Dean groaned at the threat, but at this point and with his luck, it would be his hand for the rest of the week. Maybe that's what he needed to right himself. It was wrong, right? To fuck a seventeen-year-old put in his care.

He turned around and finally faced Castiel for the first time since earlier that day. The teen's hair was messy, like usual and Dean had to fight the urge to run his fingers through it. He had the first two buttons of his shirt undone, where Dean saw a hint of a mark he left the other night. He had to be more careful with that.

"Cas, come here." Dean leaned back against the table and motioned for Castiel to come over to him.

Cas nearly didn't comply, but the way Dean sprawled against the table made Cas want to wrap around him.

He walked to within a foot from where Dean was standing, knowing he was annoyingly too far away—he usually got up in Dean's face. Cas was wearing a scowl that could make stars fall from the sky, and he hoped he kind of scared Dean.

He muttered petulantly under his breath, cursing the way Dean had him wrapped around his little finger.

Dean reached out and grabbed the teen's hand, pulling him closer. He knew he was treading dangerous territories with having Cas so close to him, but he missed the feel of the boy in his arms. He held the teen's hand firmly in his, lightly stroking his thumb over the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean said softly, staring into Castiel's eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong." He raised his other hand and threaded his fingers through the soft, dark hair.

Cas softened, melting against Dean and nuzzling into his touch. "Hmmm. You're forgiven," he hummed. "Do you want to come and get some lunch? Kevin made sausages and potatoes."

"Mmmm," Dean hummed and pulled Castiel so they were pressed together. "In a minute, Cas." He wrapped his hand around the back of Castiel's head, pushing him closer. He turned them around and pushed Castiel against the work bench, keeping him trapped between the wood and him.

Just a quick kiss. That couldn't hurt, right? If they went a little slower he could deal with this.

Cas gasped at the sharp bite of wood in the small of his back as Dean pressed up against him. "Dean," he sighed, sounding winded. "This is—ungh-risky." Dean had pressed his mouth to the skin behind Cas' ear and Cas nearly collapsed. Despite his half-hearted protest, he grasped the front of Dean's shirt, his good hand twitching as he curled his fists tight.

Dean just smirked and pressed himself closer to Cas. "We won't get caught," Dean reassured the boy before capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He felt Castiel tug on his shirt, pulling Dean, if possible, closer to him.

Cas trembled, whimpering into Dean's mouth and snaked his arms around his neck. Pulling free from the kiss with a smack, Cas nuzzled his nose against Dean's stubble. He pressed kisses to his neck and jaw, licking and sucking, gentle enough not to leave marks.

His cock twitched with interest in his jeans, and he pushed his hips up and forward, rutting against Dean's thigh.

Dean felt Castiel harden against him and moved his hand down to the boy's hip, keeping him close, but holding him still. He wanted nothing more than to allow Cas this, but they couldn't go too far. Even though Dean knew no one else would come looking for him since they all still thought he was in a mood, lunch would be over soon and the boys would be back to their chores.

"Cas," Dean sighed against the boys lips. "You can't do that." Dean growled when Castiel wiggled against his hold, rubbing his hardened member against Dean's. It was becoming increasingly difficult to deny the boy.

Cas grunted in annoyance, shoving Dean back slightly. "Then why did you do that?" he huffed angrily. "You can't have it both ways, Dean. You can't just... do that and then... tell me no." He growled angrily, a little mad at himself. He was mad and hard and frustrated. And Dean was perfect and aggravating and right there.

"Damn it," Dean grumbled, dropping his head and pulled away. His teeth were clenched. "Cas, that's not what I meant. I just meant we have to be careful. Last night was too close; I don't want what we have to end so quickly because of lust." Dean pulled his hand from Cas' hip and up to his face. He wiped a stray tear and then cupped his face. "We can't just fuck in daylight in the middle of the shed."

Dean groaned and pushed a hand through his hair. Shit, he really was handling this maturely. "

I'm not rejecting you, Cas," he said, a lot calmer. "I'm just trying to protect you, please understand that."

"I don't want to hide anymore, Dean," Cas whined, a sob escaping his lips before he could catch it. "I'm sorry, I'm so stupid." He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, pushing so hard he could see stars and the stitches in his hand pulled. He gasped in pain, but just clenched his fist harder. He was so mad at himself. So stupid, he thought.

"What do you mean?" Dean was worried. It had only been a week or so, and Castiel already seemed to be regretting his decision. "I mean, I know we can't exactly be truthful to everyone, but there are ways around it. We'll figure it out." Dean didn't like how desperate he sounded, like a pleading girlfriend trying to stop a breakup. Even though they'd only been together for what most would just call a 'fling', Dean truly did care for the boy. He didn't see it as just sex, though, that's what this seemed like at the moment. The man intended to change that soon. He wanted to get to know Cas and not just from what his file said.

"What?" Cas pulled his hands away, looking up into Dean's worried face. "Oh! No, Dean, I'm not—I'm just frustrated. I still want this."

He ran his bandaged fingers down the side of Dean's face, the fabric catching on Dean's stubble. "Want you. I know we can't be risk being seen." He smiled shakily, lips still trembling from his outburst. He pressed them to the hollow in Dean's throat between his collarbones to still them.

As hard as it was for them to keep it from everyone, Cas would push through—for Dean. He felt something with him he couldn't name. It was addictive. And if he had to get his fix in secret, then so be it.

"It's okay," Dean reassured, kissing Castiel's lips gently. He pulled back and smirked teasingly at the boy. Just because they couldn't be intimate at the moment didn't mean that they had to be completely absent from each other. "We'll just blame them on teenage hormones." Dean teased the boy with a wink.

Cas couldn't help but chase the kiss as Dean pulled away. He blushed a light pink when he registered Dean's words.

"Oh, I-I-" Cas sputtered, trying to figure out a coherent response. He knew he could be a little eager, but in his defense it was Dean's fault—Dean and his stupid perfect face.

"Relax, Cas," Dean laughed and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I didn't mean anything by it." His eyes glanced over Castiel's face and smirked. He moved his fingers up, running them over the boy's cheek. "Though, I do like that blush on you. Might have to see if I can make you turn that colour later."

Castiel gasped and stared wide-eyed at the older man. If it was possible, he blushed darker and averted his eyes.

_God, _Dean knew exactly how to get him.

Dean chuckled again. "Fuck, you're cute." Dean cupped Castiel's cheeks, pulling the boy back in for a deeper kiss. The boy was just too tempting.

Castiel's hand found Dean's shirt again, pulling Dean against him. Their chests pressed together and Dean involuntarily rubbed up against Castiel.

"Fuck," he groaned when the boy responded, quite eagerly too for only just having sex last night.

"Dean," Castiel whimpered and Dean growled, nipping at the teen's lips.

Castiel was pressed up against the wooden table. Fuck teenage hormones, Dean knew he wasn't any better and it was that thought that had the older male pulling back.

"Sorry," he mumbled, feeling a little guilty that his control almost got away. However, they still were clothed so that had to be an accomplishment in some way.

Castiel was panting a little, averted his gaze, embarrassed at how he so easily humped into Dean. "It's all right." He was a little disappointed that Dean stopped them. The man was really trying to keep strong with his "be careful" rule.

"It's not like I was exactly stopping you," Cas mumbled lowly, but Dean still heard.

"Still, I already told you no and then I led you on again." Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, a sure way to keep them from touching Castiel.

Dean's gaze dropped to the boy's hand. "How's the hand?" he asked, changing topics.

"W-wha-oh, um-" Castiel glanced down at his hand. He had taken a pill earlier, so all he felt was a numb throbbing. "It's okay. Right now."

Dean nodded, not sure what else to say on the subject. There was a lot he wanted to say to Cas lately—wanted to ask him, but it was never the right time. He wanted to know more about the boy, about Castiel, and not just what his file said. He wanted to know Castiel's likes; what his life was like before all of this. Most importantly though, he wanted to know exactly how Castiel ended up here. How the boy ended up on the path that led him to stealing.

Castiel shifted awkwardly—Dean was still staring. He knew what Dean was thinking. The man had brought up the prospect of his past more than once in the past couple of weeks, but the boy just brushed him off either by making a joke or changing the subject.

Cas swallowed and cleared his throat. Dean snapped out of his thoughts and gave a fake cough. He looked back to the Impala. A few tools littered the floor.

The man moved back to his car and began to clean up, well aware of Castiel's eyes on him.

Castiel let out a soft sigh. _Damn, why can't he just say it?_ It wasn't like his past was the darkest Dean's ever heard. The man's got to have heard worse. Dean's face had been so genuine and open.

"C'mon," the boy broke the silence. "We should head back. They'll be wondering what's taking so long." He beckoned with his hand, but waited for Dean, as he placed a couple of tools back onto the work bench.

"I don't know how much food will be left, but we've already eaten so that's okay." He smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

Dean growled, trying to sound annoyed, but he couldn't help the smile spread across his face, easily forgetting the past ten minutes.

"You give yourself too much credit." Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes, but followed the smug boy. Even though he'd still rather not face his brother just yet, he'd do almost anything for the boy.

Cas counted it as a win that the man walked back with him to the house. He was glad to have made the man forget his anger, even for a moment.

* * *

Once back inside, Cas sat between Alfie and Benny, and Dean sat at the opposite side of the table from Sam. There was plenty left over for them.

"Glad you finally decided to join us," Sam greeted when his brother took his seat. Dean just rolled his eyes and took a sausage from the plate Kevin handed to him.

"Nice to see you listened to someone." Dean narrowed his eyes at Kevin, but didn't say anything.

"Dean wasn't too hard on you, was he?" Kevin addressed the boy, and Dean had to bite his cheek to keep a stoic face.

"Hmm? Oh, he was a little moody, but he softened pretty quickly," he said with a small smile. He looked down at his plate, focused on the food he was piling up, trying to ignore Sam's quizzical gaze. It was almost like the youngest Winchester suspected something.

"That'll be a first," Sam grumbled, feeling slightly pissed that Dean was willing to talk to Castiel but not him. Dean struggled not to narrow his eye at his brother.

"Cas must be one hell of a persuader," Kevin joked and a few boys chuckled. You have no idea, Dean thought, but didn't dare speak.

Castiel, the smug bastard, had been teasing him all through lunch and Dean had to take it. It would look too suspicious, so Dean sat back and let the teen have his fun, but Cas and he both knew he was not getting away with it.

Castiel helped Kevin clean the kitchen after lunch, while everyone else was outside playing a game of touch football.

Once Castiel finished with his task, he grabbed a book and sat out in the sun to watch them. He occasionally stood to pass the ball back when it came his way, but other than that, he just enjoyed the warmth on his skin.

* * *

Everyone was outside while Dean stayed in. Sam had finally cornered him when all the boys went outside to play some game. Since it was Sunday, it was the day the boys got off. After their talk, Dean realized his anger was aimed towards the fact his brother had interrupted him last night.

"Dean?" Sam stopped Dean from heading upstairs. His brother had been ignoring him all morning and he was determined to finally talk to him.

"What, Sammy?" Dean sighed, and turned to face Sam, who was standing in the middle of the front hall. "We need to talk, Dean. You've been avoiding me all morning and it's pissing me off. I don't know what I did, but I want to know."

Dean cursed inwardly, he really hated when Sam tried to "communicate" with him. Why couldn't he just let him be pissed?

"There's nothing to talk about Sam—you're the one who came to me."

"Dean, you're terrible with your words. I normally don't say anything because I'm your brother, and I know that's how you are. But Dean you can't be acting like this around the boys. We are supposed to be setting examples for them, not acting like them."

Sam's words were like a blow to the stomach, but he was right. Dean realized Sam hadn't actually done anything wrong. He was the one who was at fault. He was the one who was sneaking Cas into his room; Sam was within his rights to go to his room. "You're right," Dean sighed, shocking Sam with his compliance. "I'm sorry."

"You agree?" Sam asked in bewilderment. "You're not supposed to agree, Dean, you're supposed to argue with me." Sam crossed his arms and stared at his brother. "What has gotten into you? You're all over the place. It's like you're PM-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, bitch," Dean warned, pointing a finger at Sam.

A smile spread across Sam's face and it was Dean's turn to be confused. "Jerk." Sam chuckled and Dean realized what Sam had done.

"That was not cool," Dean complained, trying to act pissed, but failing. Sam just shrugged, "It got you talking." He turned on his heels and walked down the hall to the kitchen and then out the back door. Dean just shook his head and headed up to his room.

* * *

After the fifth or sixth time the ball hit Cas' leg, he sighed and closed his book. He stood to pick it up when Adam ran over. "You wanna join in?" he asked, taking the ball from Castiel.

"I don't know how," Cas admitted, looking back to his book laying on the bench.

"That's okay, we can teach you. Come on." He was tugged into the game by his good wrist and the other boys cheered. A flush coloured his cheeks and a swell of pride filled his chest. It was nice to be included.

After about half an hour, Cas was starting to get the hang of the game. He was even actually enjoying it. Then he caught the ball and it whacked against his hand. It was painful, and he cradled it against his chest. Benny ran over. "Sorry, brother," he said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It's all right, Benny, really." Cas pulled back to look at his hand, and saw a couple of stitches must have pulled out. The bandage was stained red. He sighed in annoyance and told the boys he'd have to go fix his hand.

He grabbed his book from the bench and went back inside to find Dean. He found Sam instead. He was in the living room, reading.

"Sam?" he ventured. "Could you help me for a second, please?"

Sam looked up from his book when Castiel called his name. He had gone out to check on the boys, but when he saw they were just playing he figured he would go read, since he rarely got the chance. Apparently something had happened in that time and now Castiel was cradling his hand, which was currently stained red.

"What happened?" He placed his book on the coffee table and got up to go over to Cas. He gently grabbed the boy's hand to examine the damage.

"I caught a hard ball. I think it tore some stitches." He hissed at Sam's touch. He hoped it wasn't too bad. He didn't want to cause more trouble than Sam needed, what with Dean being as moody as he was.

"It doesn't look too bad," Sam observed, gently moving the bloodied bandage to see the open wound. "We'll just apply some pressure to stop the bleeding and get you some clean gauze." Sam led Castiel to the kitchen before heading upstairs to get a cloth and gauze for the cut.

Cas sat at the kitchen table, unwrapping the bandage from his hand. He wanted to go and play ball with the others again, but knew that it would be wiser to read his book—this time in the safety of his room.

He picked the broken stitches from his hand and placed them with the dirty gauze, planning to dispose of it all together.

"What happened?" Dean's voice broke through the silence of the kitchen. Sam had informed him that Cas' hand needed attending to, but didn't mention exactly what. He walked over to Castiel and stared down at his bleeding hand; the wound now open at one end.

"He just had an accident with the ball," Sam replied, entering the kitchen with a brown hand towel and a roll of gauze.

"It's fine," Cas reassured. "Only hurts if I touch it." He tried to give Dean a reassuring smile. His hand was still bleeding—not a lot of blood, but enough to warrant a worried expression from Dean.

Sam had sat next to him by now and was mopping up the sticky red.

"Here." Sam held out the towel to Dean, who just stared at it perplexedly. "Apply pressure to the cut," Sam explained and Dean finally took the towel.

He sat in the chair next to Castiel and gently wrapped the towel around the cut, applying pressure to it, but being careful not to cause the teen pain.

"One day, Cas, and already you're busting your stitches open?" Dean gave the boy a smile, showing he was just joking.

"I'm just going to check on the boys and Kevin," Sam declared, walking over to the screen door. "Just keep applying pressure until it stops bleeding."

"I know how to treat a cut, Sam," Dean argued a little defensively. Sam just rolled his eyes and walked out the door.

"I am okay," Cas murmured once Sam had gone. He gritted his teeth at the pain the pressure caused, but he tried not to show it to Dean. He didn't want to worry him further.

"Are you okay, Dean?" He asked gently, placing his good hand on the man's arm.

Dean stared at Castiel questioningly. "Of course I'm okay. I'm not the one who's bleeding. Why do you ask?" Dean looked down at Castiel's hand then back up to the piercing blue eyes.

Dean used his free hand to rub up and down Castiel's wrist soothingly when he felt Castiel tighten his hand in pain.

"You've been moody all week. Did you talk to Sam yet?" Dean's rough fingers soothing his skin were a blessing, and he rumbled affection in his chest.

"Sorry," Dean mumbled, giving Castiel a guilty look. "I did talk to him; everything is okay." Dean continued to run his fingers along Castiel's skin, dropping his gaze to Castiel's arm. "Was I that bad to deal with?" He knew he was being difficult around Sam, but he didn't want that to transition towards Cas.

"The tension just feels weird around the boys," Cas admitted. "I think they think you're this big scary guy who takes no shit because you're just moody. I get it; you have stuff to deal with. But when it affects everyone else, they get a bit... wary." Cas looked apologetically at Dean, grasping his arm gently, giving him a small smile. "But I understand; I do."

Dean drew his hand back, pulling it away from Castiel's arm and out of his grasp. He stared at Castiel, feeling a little hurt by his choice of words. Did people really think that about him? "Was I really that bad?"

Cas' breath caught in his throat and he felt his eyes widen. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered, knot coiling in his stomach. "Shit, Dean, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it like that." A sense of dread filled him. Why did he always open his mouth and fuck things up?

He took the cloth and gauze from Dean. "I-I can do this m-myself, it's fine." He bundled the items together and held them close to his chest around his hand. He stood and shuffled over to the door. "I'm sorry," he whispered finally before heading out of the room.

Cas ran up the stairs, nearly tripping twice, and stumbled into his shared room. He clumsily wrapped the fresh gauze around his hand and felt around under his mattress for something. He pulled out a pill bottle, almost identical to the painkillers on his nightstand, except it was half filled with cannabis.

"Fuck," Dean groaned, as he placed both elbows on the table and dropped his head in his hands. He pushed off the chair roughly and moved to follow where Castiel had disappeared to. It seemed like lately, he just couldn't say the right thing without offending the boy.

He slowly walked up that stairs, trying to give the boy as much time as he could, but he knew with his cut hand, they had to make sure he was all right.

Castiel's door was closed and he considered just walking in, but he didn't want to dig himself further in the hole than he already was.

"Cas?" he knocked and waited for a response.

Cas was in the middle of rolling papers around the spongy green substance, unsuccessfully as he could only comfortably use one hand. He barely reacted to Dean's voice, merely raising his head from his task and calling back, "Go away, Dean. I fucked up again. You don't want to be around me." He continued stuffing the papers, finally getting one to sit right. He twisted the end and placed it carefully in his pocket before hiding his things. He was going to smoke it outside once Dean left. But it didn't seem like he would get to.

"Cas," Dean called again from outside the door, "I'm not mad at you—I'm mad at myself. You didn't do anything wrong."

Dean grabbed the doorknob and pushed it open. He spotted Cas sitting on his bed, hand still bleeding, but the towel was lying next to him.

Dean walked over to Cas, kneeling on the floor in front of him and picked up the towel. "You should be applying pressure to this." The young man smiled softly at Cas, trying to show him he really wasn't mad.

Cas' eyes shined with tears again. He couldn't help it –Dean was so accommodating; so patient. And he was being a petulant child, planning on smoking his sorrows away. Which honestly would make things a million times worse, especially if Dean or one of the others found out.

"Dean," he whispered shakily. "Help me. I c-can't... these emotions, I..." His voice caught, and it forced a choked breath out of him, which triggered him to start crying—again. This was not something he thought would become part of his routine.

Dean looked at Cas with sad eyes; he just wanted to help the boy. He stretched up, wrapping his free arm around Cas, pulling him closer. He placed a gentle kiss to the boy's forehead and pulled his face towards his chest.

"Shh, Cas," the older man soothed, "It's okay." He ran his hand lightly through his hair and pulled gently at the hair at the nape of his neck—something his mom used to do—and continued his movement.

Cas cried messily into Dean's chest, not even trying to move to hold him back, just limply sitting and sobbing. Cas felt so fucking stupid. He was such a cliché teenager. He didn't understand why Dean even wasted his time with him.

Did he say that bit out loud? He wasn't sure. He repeated it anyway. "Why d-do you waste y-your t-time with-th me?" he stammered. "I-I'm–I'm n-not even worth it."

"Don't say that," Dean murmured, but even his own voice didn't sound convincing. Something about Castiel's words rang loudly in his head: not worth it. It was something Dean felt for so long, after his mom died; after his father stared to drink and put him in charge of Sam. Sam, who looked up to Dean with so much adoration, while Dean couldn't understand why when he did nothing but fuck things up for them.

He was used to boys crying and feeling like they didn't deserve the Winchesters' kindness, though some did retaliate angrily, Dean never felt such a connection with anyone than he did with Castiel.

"It's okay to cry, Cas. No one is going to judge you." Dean didn't answer Castiel's question, instead he just comforted the boy, being there for him as he had for others in the past.

Cas let Dean hold him as he cried, tears slowly dissipating until Cas was just leaning sleepily on Dean's chest. The man's hands were rubbing soothing patterns into his back and neck and he thought he might drift off.

"I'll always be here for you, Cas," Dean mumbled into Castiel's hair. "Please remember that." Dean felt Castiel slouch in his arms.

He jumped upright, remembering he had a joint to smoke. "Dean," he murmured, schooling his voice. "I'm sorry about all this, and thank you for-for being here, but I think I'd like to take a nap."

"Let's just get your hand fixed up and then you can sleep," the young man negotiated. He pulled away from Castiel gently and unwrapped the towel. The bleeding had lessened, but there was still some crimson liquid running out of the cut.

Dean took the gauze, carefully cutting it and wrapping it around Castiel's hand. "How's that?" Dean let go of the bandage, letting Cas feel the tightness.

Cas nodded, even smiling slightly at Dean. When the teen nodded in approval, Dean grabbed the tape.

"You know, I'm glad you finally tried to spend time with the other boys," Dean let out a chuckle at the end. "Though when I suggested it I didn't mean get hurt while doing it." He glanced up at Cas, smirking when the boy rolled his eyes.

"This is why I don't participate," Cas grumbled, "I just end up hurt. Helping Kevin ended up in an injury."

"Ah, don't worry about it. This is not the first injury I've taken care off." Dean taped down the gauze and grabbed the bandage roll. He unrolled the dressing, grabbing the scissors to cut a strip. He took Castiel's hand again and began covering the cut again.

Neither of them realized that Sam had never returned, nor did they see the tall figure standing in the doorway, watching as his brother comforted the boy. He almost thought nothing of it, but then Dean placed a gentle kiss to the boy's forehead, mumbling something he couldn't hear. The gesture alerted something in Sam, but he wouldn't do anything, not until he knew more. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions, but a nagging feeling in the back of his head told him he wasn't—to watch out.

There was a shift in the air and Castiel felt as if there was a presence of an extra person. He looked up, noticing Sam for the first time. He freaked out for a second, but Sam didn't appear mad. Maybe he hadn't seen Dean kiss him just now.

Cas clung to that hope as he alerted Dean to Sam's presence by greeting the tall man. "Hi, Sam," he murmured, throwing him a smile. "Thank you for earlier."

Castiel's voice pulled Sam out of his thoughts and quickly refocused his attention. He looked to Castiel and notice the boy was smiling at him. Damn it, he didn't mean to gain the boy's attention.

Sam just nodded to Castiel but didn't say anything. He dropped his gaze down to Dean, who was still on the floor. "Kevin's looking for you, Dean," Sam said, avoiding looking at Castiel to clue in his brother of his suspicions.

Dean followed Sam outside, to find the boys were still playing but had switched games. They looked like they were enjoying themselves, which pleased Dean. He just wished Cas would sometimes join in with the boys—he's tried to convince him before, but Castiel always declined and just decided to help out Kevin or him.

Speaking of whom, Dean looked around only to not see a single sign of the younger man. "So where is Kevin?" Dean asked, turning around to face Sam.

"He went out."

Dean cocked an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes. "I thought you said he was looking for me."

"He was," Sam said simply, focusing on his brother's stance. "I told him I'd get you. You're in charge of watching the boys now."

"You could have just told me, Sammy," Dean grumbled and rolled his eyes.

"I could've," Sam agreed, "But would you have agreed?" Sam gave Dean a challenging look and fear filled him. Shit, did he know? No, he tried to reason; Sam wouldn't be this calm if he knew.

"Fine," Dean said, apparently giving the correct answer.

"Go work on your car or something, but stay close." Sam then turned around and walked back into the house.

* * *

Cas watched Dean leave the room with his brother, thankfully closing the door. Dean thought Cas was going to nap. Instead, Castiel rummaged around under his mattress again, this time for his lighter, and moved over to the window. There was a ledge wide enough to walk on that led to the roof maybe six feet away. Cas pulled open the glass, carefully slipped out, and shuffled along to the roof.

Castiel had been wanting to light up for days now. No one exactly got addicted to weed, but really liked the feeling. And he missed it. He pulled out his messy joint and lighter and lit up.

The first hit made him splutter a little, not used to the sharp smoke in his lungs. By the third hit, he was sucking in the fumes as if they were oxygen. Cas already felt lightheaded, airy, void. He felt like he wasn't real, and he giggled at the thought.

He finished his joint and slipped the butt into his pocket, not wanting anyone to find evidence. He stayed on the roof for a while, looking out at the surrounding grounds. The air felt lighter, the sky was brighter, and colours were sharper. God, he'd missed this feeling.

Once his high had started to become manageable, Cas edged his way back along the ledge and into the bedroom again, where he flopped down onto his bed and passed out immediately.

* * *

Sam had avoided Dean all afternoon and only came back to talk to him when dinner was ready. The cold shoulder from Sam was rare and when it happened, it meant shit had happened.

Cas awoke from the best sleep in his life, still in the same position. He was still a little high, but not enough that people would notice. He could smell dinner wafting up to his room, so he slipped out of bed and headed down to the kitchen.

Everyone had only just started eating, and they all greeted him warmly, asking about his hand. All except Sam. Cas found that strange, considering how they had bonded over the past few days. They'd only just started forming a friendship. Cas couldn't help but wonder if the man knew. But it was impossible—Dean and he had been too careful to get caught. What was it, then?

Dean was pleased when he saw Castiel enter the dining room, joining them for dinner, but he avoided any direct eye contact. If that was the reasoning behind Sam's strange behavior, then he knew Cas and he would have to be extra careful—they could no longer meet in his room.

Dinner passed without much incident. Kevin remained missing, which cause Sam to idly announce Kevin had just gone home for the day. The youngest Winchester kept a close eye on his brother and the teen, but nothing suspicious alerted his attention... Yet.

Dean was assigned to do the dishes, which was normally Kevin's task, but since the kid was at home, it was his job.

Cas stayed back to help Dean with the task while everyone went to do their own thing. He dried and put away as his hand would not permit him too close to the water.

After they had cleaned about half of the dishes, Cas decided to ask if Dean had noticed Sam during dinner. "I swear, he was watching us," he whispered. "Do you think he knows?"

Dean was silent for a moment, mulling over Castiel's question. Though the same question had passed his mind multiple times through the evening, he didn't want to worry Castiel.

"I don't think so," Dean said honestly, though he was seriously starting to doubt it. "Sam would have let me know. He's not one to just sit around if something pisses him off—he'll let you know." Dean tried to give Castiel a reassuring smile as he handed the boy a clean plate. "I wouldn't worry about it." Now if he could convince himself of that.

Cas smiled back, taking the plate from him. He glanced around to make sure no one would see, then pressed a kiss to Dean's stubbled cheek as he looked back to the sink. "Good," he murmured, "Because I've been thinking about you and last night all through dinner," he said the last part under his breath.

Dean nodded; glad Castiel had believed him. He handed another plate to Castiel for him to dry, easily settling back into the normal routine.

"We do have to be careful though," Dean said, while scrubbing at a serving spoon. "The other night was too close. I know we've been lucky before, but we do have to be careful. I don't want to lose you, Cas." Dean dropped the spoon and used dishtowel to dry his hands before pulling Castiel towards him.

Cas let Dean pull him close, but he looked around the room again just in case. "Like you said, we have to be careful," Cas reprimanded half-heartedly, a slight chuckle in his tone. He wrapped a hand loosely around the man's upper arm, leaning into his touch.

Dean narrowed his eyes playfully and placed a soft kiss to his lover's lips. "Of course we do." Dean smirked and pulled back, attending to his previous task.

Cas hummed into the kiss and whined when Dean pulled away. He knew better, though, and went back to drying the dishes.

Throughout the chore, Cas stole glances at the man soaping up dishes. Dean was beautiful. It hadn't hit him until just now, but Cas noticed more than ever the smattering of freckles across Dean's cheeks and the gleam in his green eyes.

Dean felt Castiel's piercing gaze on him. Normally such a look would irritate him, but instead he was feeling a little flustered. "What?" Dean asked, turning to Cas, shaking his hands dry.

Cas was caught off guard for a moment, silent for a few seconds before saying, "Oh, nothing. Just... You're..." he was stumbling, not sure how to compliment the man without sounding sappy. "Don't worry," he gushed, drying the final plate and placing it in the cupboard.

Dean raised his eyebrows, an amused look spread across his face. "You're adorable when you're flustered," Dean teased, nudging Castiel playfully as he walked past him to hang the towel over the oven handle.

Cas blushed at Dean's words, giggling as Dean's elbow nudged his ribs. "Well, you're- you're uhh-" he cleared his throat, still not able to finish his sentence. What was with him lately? He couldn't even compliment his lover without getting embarrassed.

Dean chuckled and turned back to Castiel. The boy was still flustered and turning slightly pink. The colour reflected against his eyes, making the vibrant blue stand out even more. Dean cupped Castiel's face, smiling softly and placing a delicate kiss to the boy's lips.

Castiel sighed into the kiss, grateful that Dean wasn't annoyed by his behaviour. He pulled back quickly though, not wanting to get caught.

"Dean," Cas breathed, reminding him that the others were only in the next room.

Dean sighed and reluctantly pulled away. "I know," he said, almost sadly, and pulled away farther.


End file.
